Ripples in the Pool
by 2BBornot2BB
Summary: It all started with Brennan's offer to Booth and Parker to use the pool in her building as her guests at any time, and along the way how she learns to be Booth's 'village'.  But what's it going to take?
1. You're Awsome

_This is going to be series of fluffy one shots all centred around Brennan's offer to Booth and Parker to use the pool in her building as her guests at any time, and along the way how she learns to be Booth's 'village'. Starting off slow, they'll get steamier as we go along. And yes, there will be a LOT of ripples in this little pool! Hope you enjoy._

_With thanks to my unfailingly generous and supportive beta and friend paxmundi, who absotively posilutely RAWKS! _

_Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [*maniacal laughter*]!)_

_That's my standard disclaimer, but this time I'd better give credit to Fox et al for the dialogue in the Prologue (just borrowed it to give context, Hart. And because it was adorable.) No financial institutions were harmed in the production of this fanfic._

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Chapter One: Which part of _'you're awesome'_ don't you get?

**

* * *

Prologue:**

"_It takes a village, Bones."_

_"Wha – er - I beg your pardon?"_

_"A village. To raise a kid properly it takes a village."_

_"But metaphorically. It doesn't mean we all must grow up in hamlets of eight hundred people or less."_

_"Um. Will you be my village?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"I need Parker to know that I lead a full and rewarding life."_

_"But you don't."_

_"What? Yes I do."_

_"No you don't. You work too much, you don't socialise - all of which prevents you from having a full sex life."_

_"Okay. Please let's just take a hint from, you know, the suburbs and just make it look good."_

_"You want to know if I'll help you fool your son into thinking your life is gratifying?"_

_"Yeah. Will you do it?"_

_"Well – ah – how?"_

_"Come to dinner with us, have fun, laugh at my jokes."_

_"Wh- that might actually turn out to be fun thus becoming a self fulfilling desire."_

_"Right. So will you do it?"_

_"Yes. I will be your hamlet of eight hundred people or less."_

_"My village."_

_"I was being amusing. You should laugh at my jokes too."_

_"I'm laughing. On the inside."_

* * *

_**The First Phone Call.**_

"Brennan." Temperance Brennan didn't glance at the caller ID when she answered her home phone. She answered her home phone the same way she answered her office phone and her cell; every call was a business call as far as she was concerned; whoever was calling usually required her expertise on some level.

_"Hey, Bones. How ya doin'?"_ The voice at other end was warm and friendly, just like the man.

"Hi Booth. I'm doing fine thanks." She waited for him to go on but the line was silent. "Booth, are you still there?"

_"Uh - yeah."_

"Do we have a case?" Uncertainty tinged her voice. They'd only just wound up their last case the day before and had spent a large part of today doing paperwork and tidying loose ends.

_"Uh – nup. Nothing like that."_ He was hedging, not sure if the request he was about to make was still welcome.

"Booth, you must have called me for some reason. We only saw each other about an hour ago and we spoke quite a lot during the day. Has something happened since then?"

_"You okay with Parker and me coming to use your pool tomorrow?"_ Booth's voice was almost tentative, although he couched his request in his usual relaxed way. They inevitably spent a lot of hours together with work, and lately the amount of time they spent together outside work had increased more and more as well. This thought brought a pleased smile to his face; the tendrils of their lives were becoming strongly intertwined, and he loved that this was happening. He just wanted to make sure that she was still okay with upping the ante.

Although Brennan frowned at the hesitation in his tone, she answered immediately "Of course. You're coming tomorrow?" He couldn't read her voice over the phone on this, if anything she seemed a bit impatient, preoccupied, although it was hard to tell on her brief reply.

_"Are you sure you're alright with it?" _He sounded almost apologetic.

Her frown deepened at his apparent need for reassurance, and she unconsciously let her head tilt to one side, attempting to recognise a possible subtext. Regrettably she had only just been introduced to the term, but hadn't yet grasped the concept. "Booth, that's why I gave you the key. I'm surprised you haven't been sooner."

Booth was silent for a moment. _"You now how it is with kids, Chuck E Cheese party one weekend, chest cold the next."_ Despite his indecision, in the end it was Parker's insistent pleading that forced his hand. As far as his young son was concerned, it was simple: go to the pool, see Dr Bones. Now.

"Who's Chucky Cheese?" Brennan's question brought him back to the conversation, "One of Parker's friends?"

_"It's Chuck E Cheese. E. The kids restaurant place."_

"What's the "E" stand for?"

_"What? Um, I don't know, nothing – it's a made up name. But listen, never mind about that. Will tomorrow be okay? It's hard to plan things with an eight year old. But he's been asking me about it since that day at the diner, and tomorrow works for us."_

"Booth, any time is okay." There was a thumping noise, "Ow!"

_"Bones – are you okay? What are you doing?" _There was another muffled thump before she came back on the line.

"Trying to get dressed and talk to you on the phone at the same time and it seems I'm not as co-ordinated as I thought I was." Booth waited but she didn't elaborate. Did 'getting dressed' mean she was _undressed_? What was she doing, answering the phone in her underwear? Naked? His eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned softly, his imagination spiralling out of control.

_"Um, so, do you want to get some dinner later?"_ He asked hastily. Something was up and he wanted to know what.

"Can't. Got a date." She huffed, clearly struggling with whatever item of clothing she was up to. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed convulsively, his throat suddenly dry. He was grateful they weren't having this conversation face to face. Then again …. he sighed, shelving the thought of that tantalising prospect.

_"Oh. Okay."_ He knew he should finish the call, but he couldn't help himself, anything to prolong the conversation; he just wanted to talk to her. _"Anyone I know?"_

"No, not as far as I'm aware." Booth was silent. "I've got to go, Booth, or I'll be late. Was there something else you wanted?"** _Only you._** Where had that come from? Who as he kidding; he didn't have any doubt about the point of origin of that particular thought.

_"Ooo-kaay. You have fun on your date, Bones. What is he this time? Parkouring microbiologist? Base jumping oceanographer? Cliff diving astrophysicist?" _**_Navel gazing space cadet? _**

"Brian is an orthodontist and this is our first date. I don't really know what he does in his spare time. Apart from one thing, of course." Booth felt his blood pressure pop at her offhand qualifier.

_"You're kidding me? **Brian**, the **orthodontist**?"_ He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice and he forced a laugh to hide it. _"Slumming it, Bones?"_

"I don't know what that means. We're going to see the NSO. There's a guest conductor and they're performing Dvorjak and Elgar. As far as I'm aware it's in a very affluent part of town. I don't believe there are any slums in the immediate locality." She was starting to get exasperated, and a thought occurred to her. "Wait, are you being condescending?" she asked warily.

He tried to sidestep the question but ended up in the same place, _"Jeez, Bones, where do you find these guys?" _He also tried to keep his voice even, but his irritation broke through and he thought he may have slipped accidentally into a whine. He tried forcing a grin instead, but that only made his face ache.

She chose to take his question at face value and answered him ingenuously. "I met him at yoga class."

_"So **yoga **is the thing he does in his spare time?_"

"Yes, he's very … supple. Although he undoubtedly has other interests." She was using that self-satisfied tone that really drove him nuts and the grin was abruptly wiped from his face.

Before he could think of anything to say to that, Brennan went on, "Booth, I've got to go. That's the door. Have fun tomorrow in the pool." She severed the connection, leaving him scowling at his handset.

~o0o~

"So how did the big date with Brian the Orthodontist go last night?" Booth and Parker were at the door of her apartment, hair still wet from their swim. Brennan didn't answer him straight away, opening her door wider so that they could come in. She looked crabby.

"You're always lecturing me about the observing the social niceties, yet you often forget them yourself." She gave him an arch look and followed it with a grumpy observation. "Hardly a good example for your progeny." Parker himself was oblivious to the adults' conversation; he was too busy looking around her apartment, enthralled by the weird bits and pieces she had on display in her hall. He couldn't wait to explore. Everywhere.

Brennan headed towards the kitchen without waiting for an answer, expecting that they'd follow her, which they did. Booth smiled slightly when he took in the dejected set of her shoulders. Another disappointing date? His smile widened into a cocky grin, and he swaggered a little as he followed her through the apartment.

"So, what was wrong with this one?" He was flying blind on that assumption, but his Bradar usually kept him safe. Of course, her batting average on the dating front was pretty low and her body language wasn't exactly exuding bliss, so it wasn't really a huge leap.

"He snores." She said quietly over her shoulder, for once comprehending his meaning easily.

"_What?_" Booth pulled up abruptly and quickly scanned the apartment for signs that she had a visitor. His heart rate immediately increased and he stood on the balls of his feet; the Ranger was never really very far away. Parker barrelled into him, protesting "_Dad!_" at the sudden stop. Booth quickly placed both hands on Parker's shoulders, not sure whether he was steadying his son or himself. He dropped his voice to a strained whisper. "Is he still here?"

Brennan screwed up her face in confusion, "What? No." Booth relaxed a bit, although he still cast a wary eye around the apartment.

Brennan took down mugs and a tall glass from her cupboard, not bothering to ask if Booth would like coffee. There was no need, she knew what his answer would be; he could be fanatical about his coffee. She held the glass up, "Would you like some juice, Parker?" She received an emphatic nod and returned the boy's smile warmly as she passed a brimming glass to him. "How was your swim?"

"It was awesome." The little boy's face shone back at her with happiness and just a touch of hero worship. "Can we come again tomorrow?"

"Hey, sport, settle down. Bones doesn't want us here every five minutes." His brows came together as he looked at his son. Parker had wriggled off his stool and was trying to take the lid off an old pot that had been sitting on a side table, "Parker please put that down. It's not polite to play with things if you don't have permission."

"Sorry Dad." He looked up at Brennan. "Can I look at this please Dr Bones?"

"Wait, Parker, it might be valuable." Booth turned to Brennan. "Is it valuable?"

"It's a Moche sacrificial rite vessel, Peruvian, about 500AD."

"Well, at least it isn't brand new." He missed Brennan's eye roll in his impatience to find out more about her date.

She stepped over and placed the red and cream coloured ceramic piece gently in Parker's hands, making sure he had a good hold of it and was supporting the base. "Parker, you're welcome to examine it as long as you handle it very carefully." She smiled indulgently at him. "And you're also welcome to come and use the pool whenever your Dad can bring you." The little boy's face lit up and he looked at his dad questioningly.

"We'll talk about it when we get home, buddy. And you can look at the pot for a count of ten, then I want you to put it back where you found it. Carefully." He turned to Brennan, "So …" but Parker cut in,

"You're awesome Dr Bones. I'm really glad that you let us use your pool. And you've got great stuff in your house."

Brennan chuckled and acknowledged Parker's remarks solemnly, complimenting him on his manners. Booth brought the conversation back on topic as soon as he could.

"Yeah, thanks Bones." He was sincere, but still very distracted. "So, Brian snores, eh?"

The smile disappeared as she nodded and he instantly regretted that particular opening salvo.

She grimaced, crossing her arms in front of her defensively. "And I found his behaviour completely inappropriate."

"Bones, ixnay." His eyes darted to Parker who had carefully replaced the sacrificial vessel where he'd found it and was looking at each of them in turn. Booth took her by the arm and pulled her to one side. His voice dropped to a whisper in deference to his son's presence, but the planes of his face had hardened and his hands had balled into fists.

"Why, what did he do? If he hurt you - " He spat the words out through clenched teeth.

"He fell asleep in the middle of the first movement." She paused, disgust etched on her face.

"What?" Booth's voice had risen to a squeak, and he didn't know where to look, outrage and embarrassment fighting for dominance on his handsome face. "Wait, are you telling me -"

"And when the pastorale finished and the second movement started – the timpani section is very forceful at that point -"

"His timpani? Where's that?" Booth was really confused now. He'd never heard it called _that_ before.

"Kettledrums. They're really loud in the second movement of that piece of music. Anyway, he woke up and made this obscene snorting sound -"

Booth held his hand up, the pieces suddenly falling into place. "Wait, you're telling me Brian the Orthodontist fell asleep at the concert you went to?"

Brennan frowned, "That's exactly what I've been saying." She got annoyed when he started laughing. It really wasn't all that hilarious. "I've decided that I won't be seeing him again."

"Except at yoga class." Booth's Cheshire cat grin was back in place and his spirits soared.

"Except at yoga class." Brennan couldn't resist his ebullient mood, and a matching smile spread across her face.

"Bones, you really are awesome you know."

~o0o~

Hope you enjoyed this little piece of silliness … I'll be adding more of the same every so often and I hope you'll let me know what you think. Cheers!


	2. The Obligatory Shower Scene

_A/N So glad to have the wonderful pax mundi on my team! Thanks for the help :D_

_Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [*maniacal laughter*]!)_

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Chapter Two: The Obligatory Shower Scene

* * *

This time Brennan had the coffee already sputtering away when the knock on the door came. Booth and Parker stood there, still damp from their swim.

"Hey, Bones." Booth's eyes drank in casual Brennan; hair unstyled and curling haphazardly around her freshly scrubbed face, baggy grey sweats, pink singlet top, barefoot. Adorable. And utterly oblivious to the effect she had on him. He dropped his eyes, uncomfortably aware that he'd probably been staring at her. Her toenails were painted the same pink as her top … who'd have guessed? Parker pushed past him when the door swung open, already completely at ease with her and at home in her apartment. It took the kid – what – two visits? Booth wondered why he couldn't be more like his son and just relax. He found himself staring at her again for a long moment, a sappy smile on his face.

"Coming in, Booth?" There was nothing other than friendly politeness in her tone, but still he took heart at her words. Her smile was open and welcoming and she looked pleased to see him. He'd called last night to check that it was okay to bring his son for a swim, and she'd taken the call at the lab. There'd been a mass grave recently unearthed in France and they'd sent several sets of the World War One skeletal remains to the Jeffersonian, hoping she could identify them. Although it disturbed him that she was still at the lab, Booth considered the fact that she wasn't headed out on a date with some damn loser to be a plus in his book. They hadn't had a case in almost two weeks, and she'd immersed herself in identifying the fallen soldiers, only coming out to play at the diner for lunch two or three times. He missed her, missed the daily contact. Booth admired the persistence and dedication she'd given to her task, but knew the eventual toll it would take on her. He wanted to save her from herself, from getting buried in work. He wanted to get her to look after herself better. He wanted to – ah, shit, who was he kidding? Booth just wanted _her_.

He let Brennan lead him into the living area. There was nothing partner-like in his enjoyment of the view he got by letting her take the lead … the view was so good from behind. Parker had zoomed around the apartment for a minute or two and was now leaning heavily on a low glass-topped table on the other side of the room, poring over its contents. The table was inset with a deep shelf that was divided into about forty little sections, the sort of thing most people used to display collections of seashells or toy cars or matchbooks. Booth hadn't seen it before; he guessed it was new.

Each section of Brennan's table held a small object of some kind, but apart from being able to see they were all quite small, Booth couldn't make out what they were. Parker was mesmerised by all the different things that were stored there.

"Hey, Dad, what's this thing?" His eyes were round and he turned to his father excitedly. Booth altered direction and went over to his son. The little boy was idly scratching his rear end until his father lightly swatted his hand away, admonishing him under his breath about his manners. Brennan came up beside him and they both leaned over to inspect the intricately carved object that had caught Parker's attention.

"A two headed penis totem of the Han dynasty." Brennan informed them matter-of-factly.

Booth froze, bent over the glass topped table, as her words penetrated his brain. He swallowed, frowning slightly. "Yeah. That's what I thought it was." The deep flush of embarrassment that swept over his features was involuntary. He kept his eyes locked on the ancient figurine in its compartment, unable to look at her or for that matter at his son.

"It's carved from jade." Brennan was mildly surprised at how fascinated Booth appeared to be by the totem; usually he was so reserved about this sort of thing, but she was happy to tell him more about it if he was interested.

"Right. That's what I thought it was." Although his reply was a little stiff, he was still studying the totem closely.

She put her hand out to unlatch the glass top of the table. "Would you like me to take it out so that Parker can have a closer look?" She was smiling encouragingly. "It's generally accepted to be one of the first proofs of the existence of lesbianism in Chinese history."

Booth made a strangled noise, alarm shooting across his face. He snuck a glance at Parker but the boy was caught up studying the table's contents. "Did you have to go there, Bones?" he hissed at her. He put his hand on Parker's shoulder, nudging him away from the table. "Okay, that's enough buddy." When Booth rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at her she knew she'd messed up somehow, and she screwed up her face in confusion: what had she said that was wrong?

Booth was trying to think of a way to divert his son's attention. "How about we go look at the stuff on the bookshelf, Parks? Bones has got a really cool book on old guns." He put his arm across his son's shoulders, trying to manoeuvre him away from the table and whatever other bizarre surprises it might contain.

"But Dad, I want to see the _tooheddabeenus_ thing." The little boy turned rebelliously to Brennan - brows drawn together fiercely, his lips in a thin line, the oh-so-familiar jutting chin - reminding Brennan instantly of his father. "I want to look. Please can I? Is it a kind of dinosaur?"

She was about to answer Parker's question when she noticed that, apart from trying to resist his father's urging, the little boy was wriggling in a strange way. Her eyes narrowed and she studied him more closely; he was trying desperately hard not to scratch and beginning to look forlorn in the process. She leant down towards him. "Booth, I think maybe Parker needs a shower. The chlorine mix in the pool must have been pretty strong – actually I can smell it on him from here." She straightened and then leaned towards Booth, sniffing loudly in his general direction. She wrinkled her nose and looked at him pointedly. "Maybe you'd better have one, too."

Booth made a show of checking his armpits. "What are you talking about? I can't smell anything?"

Brennan went on as if he hadn't spoken, her attention back on Parker. "I think it's irritating his skin and making him itchy. He appears very uncomfortable."

Booth dragged his eyes away from his partner and turned to his son, concerned. "Is that the problem, buddy?"

Parker nodded briefly, biting his lower lip, torn between wanting to see the dinosaur and having a really good scratch, both of which apparently his dad wasn't keen on him doing. How could a kid win?

"We'd better get you home, buddy." Booth turned to Brennan, shrugging his apology at having to leave so abruptly. He made to go and get his keys from where he'd thrown them on the kitchen countertop but when he turned back, Brennan had found a couple of thick fluffy towels from a nearby closet and was pressing them into his hands.

"I think the logical thing would be for Parker to have a shower now rather than wait, Booth. He's going to be a lot more comfortable the sooner he gets the chemicals off his skin; the effects of the chlorine are more likely to increase exponentially." She regarded him calmly, confident she was right.

Booth watched his squirming son for a second; the poor kid was really looking miserable. He took the proffered towels with a few words of thanks and led Parker away to the bathroom. A couple of minutes later the little boy was covered in suds, with instructions not to make a mess.

Booth stopped, his hand on the doorknob, the sounds of his son's tuneless singing, the thrum of the water, the steam curling around him. It felt weird but kind of nice to be in Bones' bathroom, with Parker under the shower. He glanced around curiously; the room was huge compared to the cupboard in his apartment that served as his bathroom. He checked his reflection in the mirror. Not too bad, but maybe he should have shaved this morning. What the heck, it was Saturday. He looked at his reflection again as the steam started to obscure it, and his reflection grinned cockily back at him.

His focus shifted and he realised the glass actually concealed a cupboard. He shot a guilty look over his shoulder and, giving in to an overwhelming urge to snoop, he opened the doors. His eyes scanned the shelves; Tylenol, antihistamines, something called ylang ylang in a little brown bottle with a dropper on the top, open packet of disposable razors (pastel colours, thank you God). He pulled the top off a bottle of lotion and sampled its scent, dotting the end of his nose with cream in the process. No wonder she smelled so good all the time. He replaced the lid quickly and put it back on the shelf, using the back of his hand to wipe the tip of his nose before he sneezed from the tickle. Red bottles, blue tubes, pink tubs … what was all this stuff for, for crying out loud? And what the hell were pore strips? He kept fossicking. Baby powder, nail files, peppermint foot soak, anti-inflammatory gel. His eyes skidded past the box of tampons at top speed and he picked up a pair of what he thought were scissors to distract himself, but then he had a second look, his eyes narrowing, puzzled. They had handles like scissors, but the ends were curved in a semi-circular arc. What the - they looked like an instrument of torture? If women were a mystery, Bones was an enigma. He tossed them back on the shelf with a faint shudder, sending a packet of q-tips flying. He fumbled the catch and leant down to pick them up from the floor.

That's when the blood rushed to his head, making his heart thud erratically; when he spotted the small black cardboard box. The q-tips found their way back onto the shelf blindly and he thrust his hands in his pockets, staring at the new find. He squinted sideways at the discreet writing. Ribbed – who knew? He stared at the carton for a few more seconds, then turned abruptly away, resolutely bleaching his brain of the images that exploded in his head. He mumbled something encouraging to his son, closed the mirrored cupboard doors gently, and beat a hasty retreat out of the bathroom.

Brennan was curled up on the sofa when he returned, his son's giggling murmurs filling the background with homey notes. She had two steaming cups laid out ready on the coffee table and she'd bought oatmeal-raisin-choc-chip cookies, his favourite. He pushed down the guilt at the little bit of cupboard trolling he'd just indulged in, replacing it with a hedonistic daydream of this little domestic scene being repeated on a regular basis.

He came too as Brennan passed him his coffee with a comment about the research she'd been doing in Limbo. He'd been working way too hard these past weeks. They both had. He sat down at the other end of the sofa with a sigh, Brennan's bone china mug disappearing in the clasp of one of his large hands, a cookie in the other.

"Thanks Bones." He murmured appreciatively, blowing on the steaming, dark brew. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, each enjoying their coffee, Booth munching his way through another cookie. Booth spoke. "Parker's feeling better already."

"I'm glad." She paused, something obviously on her mind. There was a little v-shaped wrinkle on the bridge of her nose. "Booth, why were so you annoyed with me before?"

He looked at her, a smile curling his lips. "Bones, you've gotta warn me when you're going to come out with things like that, especially in front of Parker."

"Things like what?"

Booth screwed his mouth to one side, anticipating the grief this conversation was going to give him. He reached for another cookie; maybe he'd get heartburn and that'd take his mind off the next two minutes. "The two-headed … you know."

This time it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Penis, Booth. The word is penis. And if Parker doesn't know what that is by now I think you should really think again about his education …"

"It's not the – the … penis." Colour suffused his face again and he scratched his neck, irritated. "It's the two headed lesbian bit that I was worried about."

"But why? Lesbianism and the use of simulated phalluses are well documented throughout history and have a permanent place in modern culture."

"Not an eight-year-old's culture, Bones." Booth responded dryly, shifting uncomfortably on the buttery leather sofa.

Brennan pursed her lips and turned his statement over in her mind, before looking over at him diffidently. "Wait, so you're saying it was inappropriate to discuss it with Parker?" When he nodded, a faintly rueful look curling his features, she looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, Booth."

Booth sighed. She could be so clueless sometimes; why did it have to be so cute when she was? "Forget about it. No harm, no foul." This only seemed to make her more worried and he hastened to put her at ease. "No harm done, Bones." He reassured her gently.

Brennan smiled at him but said nothing, still looking faintly discomfited and he scrabbled to fill the void with words. "Got another hot date lined up?" She gave him a perplexed look and he rushed to explain. "After Brian the Orthodontist didn't work out, I thought maybe you …" His voice trailed off as the expression on her face changed to dismay. "Ah, come on, Bones. You've got to admit –"

"Booth." She said warningly, "Please don't make fun of my choice in men again!"

"Wha-at?" He drew out the word, pretending not to understand her meaning, playing for time because of course he was going to make fun of her choice in men again. He scratched his neck absentmindedly. Let's face it; they'd all been losers. Okay, maybe not Sully; Sully was a good guy. Booth hated his guts. That gave him pause; just a few unresolved issues there. "Now come on, I try to give you a sense of perspective, make you laugh about these things, don't I?"

She laughed, "Yes you do. Sometimes not even on purpose." Her face became serious again. "I try to take people at face value, but perhaps my expectations are too high. People rarely live up to them. Except you, Booth." Her delivery was matter-of fact, and she turned towards him, slightly wary but otherwise outwardly composed.

He frowned comically, not sure how to respond. Her expression was calm and steady as usual, but she'd said a hell of a lot in just three words. His brain clamoured to catch up to his heartbeat, and lost.

Without warning, Brennan slid across the space that separated them, her expression intent. She stopped just short of their legs touching and he found himself torn between relaxing into the warmth of her or maintaining the status quo and edging far enough away that he could no longer feel the prickles of sensation her nearness was producing. His thigh literally tingled and he longed to run his hand along its length to relieve the feeling, but he found himself frozen, waiting.

"Bones, wh-what are you doing?" His soft words didn't halt her progress. The hairs on his arms stood erect when she moved in even closer, staring at his face, trying to fathom … what? Her gaze slid downwards and he felt its trail across his skin, burning where it touched. What was going on - was she making a move? Finally? He could feel his pulse rate start to clamber unsteadily as her eyes lingered on the vee of flesh visible at the open neck of his shirt. The heady scent of her shampoo pervaded the air, catching him off guard. She continued to stare, heavy lidded, and the weight of her scrutiny brought goosebumps of awareness to his skin. She reached out her hand, one finger extended, and he felt its feather touch on the side of his neck. Could she see the crazy leaping of his pulse? He thought his heart would stop altogether when she placed her finger ever so lightly at the top button of his shirt and gently tugged …

"Booth, you're breaking out in hives."

"_What?_" He released the breath he didn't even know he was holding in a whoosh, completely sideswiped by her words. He nudged her away none too gently, trying to see where she meant, but all he managed to do was bump heads with her. The tingling he'd felt was turning into a full blown burning sensation, and he raked his nails down the length of his arms in an effort to get rid of the feeling.

"Stop scratching, you'll make it worse!" Brennan's concern was genuine but Booth wasn't in the mood for her to be right this time.

He tried to shrug off her advice, his tone edgy. "It's nothing – it's just psychosomatic."

She leaned in again, inspecting the rash, "You've already got a couple of angry looking welts and your neck is getting really red. All of which means it's actually somatic, Booth."

"That's not a word." He replied sullenly but even as he spoke, he started to feel itchy - you know, there, and he crossed and uncrossed his legs awkwardly. Brennan noted the movement and gave him a troubled look.

"Would you like me to check it out?"

"_Bones!_" Booth pulled a cushion across his lap and Brennan frowned at him.

"Your chest, Booth, do you want me to have a look at your chest?"

"Nuh-uh." He sat, tense and tight lipped for about three seconds. "I think maybe I need that shower after all." Without another word he got up and strode to the bathroom, letting the door thump closed behind him. Brennan sat where she was, bemused by Booth's odd behaviour until after a moment Parker appeared, all pink and freshly scrubbed.

"I think Dad's mad about something." He handed Brennan a towel and she looked at it, nonplussed. Parker lifted it up and put it over his head. "Rub." he instructed. Brennan realised he wanted her to dry his hair so she tentatively rubbed, but he put his little boy hands over hers and made her really scrub at his wet hair, giggling when she got over enthusiastic, and then making a long "ahhhh" sound, his voice vibrating in time with her not-so-gentle ministrations.

Brennan's hand's stilled immediately "What's the matter - am I doing something wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Nuh-uh. I just like the way it makes my voice go all funny." Parker replied, grinning up at her from under his towel bangs. "Don't stop."

She resumed the hair drying. "What makes you think your Dad is angry?" Parker had started the ahhh-ing again. It reminded Brennan of Tibetan throat singing, in a funny eight-year-old sort of way, and that made her smile.

Parker shrugged, "He was talking to himself when he got in the shower, and he always talks to himself like that when he's angry, and he doesn't want to lose his temper and shout and stuff."

"Well, I'm sorry that he's angry, Parker. I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it." Whatever the little boy had done to invoke his father's ire, Brennan was sure Booth would have forgotten about it within a few minutes, and she wanted to reassure him. She absently smoothed her hand over his hair, separating the curls and tidying things up a bit.

"Don't worry about it." Parker said guilelessly, "He's not mad at me."

Brennan's smile slipped when she'd processed the implications of that, but Parker had already moved on. He plonked himself down in the same seat his father had abandoned a few minutes ago, his legs too short to reach the floor, sticking out at an angle.

"Dr Bones, how come you never come for a swim with us? You've got that great pool there and everything." His eyes lit on the plate of cookies. "Can I have one, please?"

"Sure." Brennan passed him the plate. "I don't really have the time, Parker." She took a cookie for herself, taking a first chewy bite, not willing or able to try and explain to Parker why she shouldn't, or couldn't, go swimming with him.

"You're not doing anything now, are you?" The indisputable logic of a child.

Brennan stopped chewing. "Well, I guess that's true, Parker." She let herself consider the idea for a moment. "Actually it is a very efficient form of exercise."

"My dad says swimming's really good for making your lungs strong. I can hold my breath under the water for ages." He scooted over to her end of the sofa, raising his eager little face to hers. "Will you come swimming with us next time? I can show you how good I am at staying under the water. Please?"

Brennan's clear-eyed grey collided with Parker's warm brown plea and suddenly there was nothing that needed to be explained. She came to a rapid decision. "Okay."

The junior version of Booth's charismatic grin shone from his son's face, and Brennan found herself responding with a wide smile of her own.

~o0o~

And that's how it really started; Brennan becoming Booth's hamlet of eight hundred people. But whether it was to be, or not to be, still hadn't been decided.

~o0o~


	3. Tell me I'm not dreaming, Bones

_Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [*maniacal laughter*]!)_

* * *

Chapter Three: "Tell me I'm not dreaming, Bones."

* * *

"Parker - don't run, buddy!" Booth dropped the towels he had slung over his shoulder onto one of the chairs that were dotted against the west wall and glanced guiltily around the pool area. He breathed a light sigh of relief; they had the area to themselves. Parker was always so excited whenever they came to Brennan's building for their swim, but today he was completely hyper for some reason. He watched his son jump exuberantly into the pool, sending water cascading over the tiled perimeter. The whoop of joy that accompanied Parker's wild leap made him shake his head and chuckle. Had Rebecca been giving him red cordial again? He collected up his son's hastily discarded clothes, roughly folding them before toeing off his loafers. He shucked off his shirt in one easy movement and had his hand at the button of his jeans when a familiar voice stopped him cold.

"You know, you really do have perfect acromions." Brennan's voice was cool as usual, but Booth almost jumped out of his skin at the sound. Heat seared across his face as he swung around to face her. She returned his regard calmly. He swept one arm across his chest almost defensively, and he felt a nerve start to jump in his cheek. His feet were rooted to the spot, taken aback to be caught in the process of undressing, regardless of the prosaic setting.

Her eyes tormented him for a few moments as she ran them clinically over his shoulders and across his collarbone. She seemed unaware of the small satisfied smile that played across her lips. Her eyes continued their journey up his throat and lingered on the line of his jaw. Booth's adam's apple bobbed once, twice and still he was pinioned by her gaze.

"Bones?" He asked falteringly, not even sure what he was asking. Something was different about her; she looked almost ... predatory. She edged towards him, invading his space, tilting her head slightly to the side as she continued her examination. Disconcerted, he felt her eyes stripping away the flesh from his bones and somehow, knowing her and knowing her obsessions, he was turned on despite himself.

"You are … very well structured." Her voice was husky, while her scrutiny devoured the composition of his features. Their eyes collided and Brennan looked fleetingly uncomfortable with the telling way the words had dripped off her lips, but she recovered her poise quickly. She cleared her throat as her eyes slewed away from his.

Booth took half a step back, putting some space between them. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you came down to the pool?" His words felt clumsy after the silkiness of her regard, but he felt off kilter, as if the balance between them had shifted somehow. The humid air of the heated water eddied around his torso but, conversely, he felt goose bumps sweep across his abdomen as his muscles tensed.

Brennan shrugged, the movement lifting the hem of her cover-up tantalisingly higher. The crinkled cotton top she had on came to mid thigh and below it her legs were bare and smooth. He fixed his gaze on a point just over her left shoulder, trying to regain the equilibrium that her sudden appearance had upset.

"I just felt like getting wet." She replied quixotically. She placed her folded towel on top of his on the chair.

It seemed an odd thing for her to say, but he'd heard her come out with way stranger things. He found his eyes snaking back to her, taking a furtive inventory. Her hair was piled loosely on the top of her head and several tendrils tumbled down untidily around her face. His eyes skimmed surreptitiously down the curves of her body, shadowy promise beneath virginal white. She was barefoot again; this time her toenails were painted a deep burgundy brown shade. The colour flooded his brain even though he tried not to stare, and images of ripe berries and rich treats swam across his mind's eye.

She raised both arms and pulled out the pins that held her hair in place, shaking her head to loosen the curls. His mouth went dry as the shirt pulled taut over her breasts at the action, the outline of her bikini top plainly visible through the thin fabric.

"Have you taken the plunge yet?" She glanced at the rippling surface of the pool as she spoke, before turning back to him for his answer.

He shook his head, bereft of words. God help him, he didn't think he was ready for this. It was hard enough dealing with her fully clothed, but he needed time to mentally prepare himself for this sort of encounter. Before he could get his mind into gear, he watched with fascination as her hands crossed at the wrists and gripped the hem of her top. In one fluid motion she unselfconsciously peeled the cotton shirt over her head and laid it delicately over the back of the chair.

The breath left his body on a long sigh, a sigh that ended in a groan, quickly choked off, as he took in the reality of her.

The bikini she wore was the same colour she'd painted her toes, almost the same colour as her hair; rich brown red. It's brevity both shocked and excited him as the material stretched over her full rounded breasts and across the flaring line of her hips. The playful frill that adorned the waistline of the bottoms made him smile involuntarily; frills weren't something he usually associated with Brennan.

"What?" It was only one word, but he could have sworn that she was taunting him, watching all the while for his reaction.

He was stunned, staring open mouthed at her. "It's just you look … Wow." He gulped, trying to pull back to familiar easy friendliness. "I mean, you look girly." Understatement of the year; she was smoking hot. His eyes bounced around her, on her, over her; landing haphazardly without plan or reason. It seemed he'd momentarily lost the ability to keep his eyes straight ahead.

"That would be because I am a girl, Booth." Her pout was uncharacteristic and he felt the blood pound in his head at the sight. "Just because I'm logical and live most of my life by rationales, doesn't mean I don't have any intrinsic appreciation of beauty or frivolity. I like to laugh. It's just that sometimes it's hard for me to find things to laugh about. Maybe you forget that sometimes."

"Bones, c'mon. How could I forget that? I know you better than anyone."

"Yes, Booth, you do."

She fixed him with a speculative look before sauntering to the edge of the pool. His eyes devoured the ripple of muscles along her legs and buttocks, tensing and flexing as she rose onto her toes, ready to dive in. She hesitated, glancing at him enquiringly over her shoulder, "Are you coming?" The unintentionally loaded question delivered on a throaty chuckle bounced around his skull like a pinball, hitting random targets in his imagination. A muscle flexed in his jaw as he tried to work out whether she was aware of the effect it had on him. He suspected she did and that confused him even more.

"I, uh – I don't - " He broke off, unable to take his eyes off her or construct a coherent sentence.

She regarded him levelly, her voice dropping to a husky undertone. "Nothing happens unless first a dream." The non sequitur pricked his brain, and he frowned, suddenly irritated. Brennan dived smoothly into the water, sending a spray back over him, and the droplets of water hit his skin like molten wax, scalding him. He pressed his lips together, irrationally angry at her … for what? Being beautiful? Driving him insane?

The sound of her laughing easily with his son honed his temper to a fine point and frustration welled through him. He pressed his eyes shut, blocking out the image of her long legs cleaving through the water. She'd done it again, damn it! She'd left him hanging, and moved on.

"Dad? Hey, Dad!" Parker giggled, much louder this time, and more water droplets landed on his chest. His eyes fluttered open and his son was bent over him, a huge grin splitting his face, water dripping from his wet hair.

"Wakey, wakey, hands off snakey." Parker chortled at his own cheeky joke and swung his head from side to side, sending a cascade of water over his father's face.

Booth shot up in his chair, the dream falling away from him instantly. A dream, it was a _dream_. He looked around him, feeling foolish. He'd only shut his eyes for a second, but that was all it had taken.

Wait, he could still hear Brennan laughing. He swung around and he felt his heartbeat gather momentum. She'd just come into the pool area and had seen Parker's antics which had made her laugh. Parker dashed over to greet her, chattering excitedly to her without taking a breath. She smiled indulgently at him, while her arm fell naturally over the little boy's shoulders. Side by side they walked towards Booth. He felt his chest constrict at the sight of them together, touched by the easy affection that was obvious between them.

"Bones? What are you doing here? I thought you never used the pool." He pulled a second chair up close to his and took her towel from her, arranging it over the other chair with careful attention.

"Parker invited me to join you. Is that okay?" She tucked her hair into a latex swimming cap as she spoke and she had a pair of goggles looped around her wrist. When she shrugged out of the serviceable towelling robe she had on, Booth saw she was wearing one of those no-nonsense one piece swimsuits that crossed over at the back. He couldn't help a pang of disappointment. On the other hand, although it wasn't as sexy or revealing as the bikini he'd just been fantasizing about, it did nothing to disguise her curves. Maybe reality wasn't so far behind his fantasy after all. He felt pretty damned good all of a sudden.

"It's your building, Bones, of course it's okay." He smiled, still slightly bemused to see her in the flesh. She snapped the swim goggles on her head, perching them on her forehead until she needed them. The smile she sent him was sweet and friendly, and he felt some of the tension that had hummed through him at her unexpected appearance drain away.

She strolled to the edge of the pool, poised on her toes, ready to dive in. This time reality actually rammed into fantasy, and he did a double take when she glanced at him over her shoulder enquiringly.

"Are you coming?"

~o0o~

Booth was floating on his back in the middle of the pool, worn out from several rounds of competitive splashing with Parker. Life was good. Parker had already challenged Brennan to a contest to see who could hold their breath underwater the longest. Naturally Brennan won. She pointed out that she was an excellent diver and had grown accustomed to holding her breath for several minutes when snorkelling amongst the coral reefs near Nuku'alofa. Parker didn't seem to mind, he was just happy to have her attention. Then he conned his father and 'Dr Bones' into racing against each other over ten laps, freestyle, and of course his father won, but only by half a lap. Following that Parker had amused himself for a long stretch of time diving for pennies at the shallow end, with Brennan joining in the game. Booth had amused himself for a long stretch of time watching Brennan dive, her ass mostly remaining above the water line at that depth as she searched the pool bottom for the elusive copper coloured coins. He sighed happily. Simple things, simply done.

Booth drifted closer to the edge of the pool where Brennan was now sitting with his son, taking a break from swimming. He watched as Parker got up and settled into one of the poolside chairs, ear buds in, happily absorbed playing Digging for Dinosaurs on his Nintendo. Brennan slipped back into the water and kicked off from the side wall, heading towards him.

"Hey, Bones, remember when you said my acromions were perfect … what actually are acromions?" His question halted her lazy breast stroke as she drew level with him. She rolled over, keeping in place by slowly spinning her hands in figures of eight through the aquamarine water.

"It's acromia." She corrected him matter-of-factly and he looked confused. "The plural of acromion is acromia."

"Oh." As if that helped him. "Do you remember saying that?"

"Of course. I was collecting evidence after the exploding Santa. I'd taken your shirt off and I was just about to take your belt off and you were - "

"Yeah, yeah." He cut her off abruptly, actually having temporarily forgotten the precise moment she'd made the comment, that moment between his shirt and his pants. His brows drew together as he tried to refocus. "So what are they, these acromias?"

Brennan pulled a wry face, but didn't try correcting him again. "The acromion is a continuation of the scapular spine, and hooks over anteriorly. It articulates with the clavicle to form the acromioclavicular joint. It forms the summit of the shoulder." She turned back over and continued her languid passage through the water.

"Right." His frown morphed into a smug smile as he mentally translated her explanation. He dolphined to catch up, surfacing in front of her. "You're saying you think I've got great shoulders?" His grin widened even further when she looked flustered. Her feet found the bottom of the pool, and she stood up, the water lapping her body just under her breasts.

"I'm saying they're perfectly formed." He waggled his head at her response, inordinately pleased with himself. She placed her hand on the side of his neck, and he almost ducked underwater in surprise before pushing himself back up and planting his feet squarely on the bottom. She waited for him to be still before continuing. "The acromion is a large, somewhat triangular or oblong process," Her hand slid along the top of his shoulder and she continued, "flattened from behind forward," her hand shifted marginally, "projecting at first lateralward," and shifted again, following the line of the bone, "and then curving forward and upward, so as to overhang the glenoid cavity." Her hand slid down until her palm cupped the slight mound formed at the juncture of his rotator cuff tendons.

His cocky smile had faded as her hand traced the path she described and when she met his look her voice faltered at the stark desire she saw there, and she grew uncertain. A shudder ran through him and she let her hand fall away. He stared at her hand, transfixed, as it fluttered through the water, and the sense of loss he felt at the broken contact was intense.

"Touch me again." The plea spilled from his lips without warning, a world of want in three little words that hovered between them, emitting a palpable shock wave that stunned them both.

She bit down on the impulse to ask why as the wavelets rocked her closer to him. Instead she simply answered his whispered entreaty by placing her hand tentatively back on the crest of his shoulder. In that instant the dynamics between them changed irrevocably.

She let her fingers slide along his deltoids, over his acromion, trail down his biceps and skip lightly across to his pectorals, unconsciously revelling in the feel of his skin. She pulled back guiltily, shocked at her own reckless actions and the depth of emotion the contact had elicited. Her eyes grew round as she realised the implications of what she'd done.

"Tell me I'm not dreaming, Bones." He breathed. The effort it took to keep his hands off her was monumental, but he knew he had to tread carefully now. He waited, tension coiling in his stomach, willing her not to stop.

She didn't answer him, instead treading water, the impetus of her strokes taking her slowly backwards until her shoulders bumped gently against the rounded tile edge of the pool. All the while her eyes were locked onto his. He moved slowly but deliberately through the water towards her, determination thinning his lips into a straight line. He placed put a hand on either side of her on the pool edge, corralling her within the circle of his arms. A look of panic washed over her face, but he knew it wasn't her physical safety that concerned her.

"What's the matter, Bones, cat got your tongue?" he mocked gently, ducking his head to one side to try and read her expression.

She looked away, hoping for an escape but finding none, and she shielded her thoughts from him by lowering her eyelids. "I don't know what that means." She mumbled the familiar phrase indistinctly, letting her voice trail away.

"Yes you do." He whispered close to her face, his mouth hovering over hers. They were both breathing hard, and he felt the heat of her exhalation against his damp cheek. She looked up then from underneath her lashes, her eyes snagging on his mouth, and her face turned up towards him without conscious thought. The expression on her face was achingly beautiful.

The metallic clatter of the gymnasium door opening brought them both out of their daze, and Brennan gulped in a desperate lungful of air and submerged, swimming under his arm and away from him.

"This isn't over, Bones." He called after her, letting her go for now. Nowhere near it. Not by a long shot.

~o0o~

Please don't feed the hungry author popcorn or sweeties. She thrives on reviews. :D


	4. So, what does that feel like?

_A/N: Now, we're all grown ups (or we should be with that M rating)! You've got to know there's going to be some B&B talkin' before there's any B&B lovin'. This is the talkin'. Plus maybe a little bit more ;) __With thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed and alerted and extra special merci's to the lovely cathmarchr - thanks blossie!_

_Oh, just a little note: 'thrust device' is the proper term. I looked it up._

_Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [*maniacal laughter*]!)_

* * *

Chapter Four: So, what does that feel like?

* * *

Booth wiped the last smudges of shaving cream from just below his sideburn, smoothing his palm over the now soft skin of his cheek with a grin. His teeth worried the flesh of his top lip as he ran his eyes over the meagre contents of his bathroom shelf. His hand hovered over a tall flat bottle, then a squat ovoid one. Nah, the other one. He splashed a little of the pale amber liquid into his hands and then onto his face, enjoying the faint burn. He hesitated, then took his handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and trickled a few drops onto the soft fabric, folding the square back together and putting it back into his pocket. Didn't want to overdo it. He studied his reflection, peering first one way then the next, and tweaked a spike of hair until he was satisfied.

Back in the bedroom, he cracked the cellophane wrapping on a new dress shirt, shaking out the folds with a snap of his wrist. He slipped the white cotton over his shoulders, the tails billowing out behind him. Muted music coming from the clock radio at the side of his bed had registered on his brain at some level and his feet unconsciously moved in time with the beat. He felt great. With the ease of practice he flipped back the shirt's double cuffs and inserted small gold cufflinks in the shape of crossed bones that had been a gift from Brennan on his birthday last year. His eyes crinkled with affection as he recalled the diffidence with which she'd passed him the small parcel, not meeting his eyes.

"_Bones, you got me bones." He'd been really touched, and it had shown. Brennan had drawn him away from the bright lights of the bar to a quiet corner of the room. The rest of the squints were laughing raucously at some joke Hodgins had told, but the sounds from the bar had faded into grey as he'd stared at her gift._

"_They're supposed to represent the humerus, the long bone in the upper arm." She'd explained, her voice gruff. "The clerk at the store said they had to be humerus because they were humorous." She'd pulled a face, "I've never understood why people always find that funny."_

"_He was just being friendly, Bones." He'd replied softly, letting the pad of his thumb rub gently across the surface of one of the cufflinks, enjoying the hard smoothness of the metal. _

_Brennan was still concerned with debunking a pun she'd heard hundreds of times since college. "The plural of humerus is humeri which makes a nonsense of the rhyme." She'd rolled her eyes, making him smile. "Anyway, if you look closely at the design the trochlea and coronoid fossa are disproportionate in size to the distance from the deltoid tuberosity." She'd crossed her arms over her chest defensively when he started to laugh at her. Then she'd taken the satin covered box back from him, inspecting the contents closely, and a small smile had crept across her lips. "Nevertheless I do think that they're cute." She'd passed them back peremptorily, colour flooding her face. "But they are anatomically inaccurate." _

Her attempt to devalue the sentiment that passed with the gift hadn't fooled him; she always tried not to look pleased whenever he wore them, and failed. Besides, for some reason it really bugged the hell out of her when he left his cuffs undone, so of course he tended to do that a lot just to needle her. Either way she always noticed.

He refocused back to the task at hand, running his finger down a hanger. Tie, tie, tie. Had to be something good. A grin split his face and he reached for the one with the dancing dolphins. That ought to get a reaction.

He slid his belt through the loops, settling the leather on his hips. Cocky belt buckle front and centre. He patted his trouser pockets. Poker chip, lighter, dice … everything. He wasn't leaving anything to chance today. He ran his tongue over his lips, suddenly feeling tense.

He fingered the fine wool of his suit jacket where it hung on the back of his bedroom door and tried to convince himself that it was an investment. The amount on the price tag could have powered a small European principality for a week. He slid his arms through the sleeves and experimentally buttoned it up, marvelling at the fit, before popping the buttons undone again. It was like a second skin; worth every cent. He tugged at the cuffs of his shirt so they showed a good inch and a half below the dark blue.

He started to walk away, spinning back around at the last moment for a final check in the mirror. He nodded once at his reflection, his expression buoyant.

Game on.

~o0o~

Booth was clicking the thrust device of his pen, in and out, in time with the ringing of the phone while he waited for his call to go through. The call picked up and he spoke without waiting for a greeting.

"Bones? What are you up to?"

"Booth. Wait a second." She put her hand over the phone and excused herself from the group of investors she was in the process of showing around the lab. She continued in a hushed tone. "I'm back."

"What's up? You sound preoccupied."

She tossed a disparaging look at the four men she'd been lumbered with. "I'm just in the middle of something. What do you want?"

"I thought we'd get together for a coffee? I want to ask you something. Twenty minutes?"

"I can't." She chewed on her lower lip, anxiety tightening across her chest. The heat that had been so rapidly generated between them in the pool on Saturday had shocked her, sending her metaphorically running for cover. She'd spent the rest of the weekend at the Jeffersonian, trying to convince herself she wasn't hiding from him. Her evenings had been an edgy combination of half expecting his knock on her door or his name on her cell phone display. Even now, recalling how close they'd come to crossing that precious line, she felt desire for him quiver through her body.

Brennan had begun to think he might just be willing to let their close call at the pool go without further comment, and had let herself start to relax, but something in his voice now suggested otherwise. If she were honest with herself, just hearing his voice sent the sensations tumbling through her parietal lobes again. She drew a shaky breath, keeping her voice even with an effort. "I won't be free until lunchtime. Can't you ask me whatever it is now?" she ended hopefully, happy to believe she may have misjudged his reason for calling.

"Nuh-uh. This has to be face-to-face. S'okay, I can wait." _I've waited this long_, he thought with heavy irony. He'd spent his entire Sunday planning his course of action today, and so far it wasn't going well. He glanced dispiritedly at the take out coffees he bought on the way to work. Two cups, stone cold. He'd intended to be at the Jeffersonian with them first thing this morning, but a phone call had put the kibosh on that. He'd only just got back from the court house where he'd been sent to babysit a witness for another agent who had called in sick.

He slammed the phone down in frustration, causing a few heads in the bullpen to turn his way. He forced himself to relax, leaning back in his chair and watching the bubble in the neck of his favourite pen gradually reveal its secrets, letting the tension in his shoulders drain away. He was a patient man, he could wait a little longer. She said she was free for lunch; he'd head over to the Jeffersonian at about one o'clock and take her by surprise.

~o0o~

"Where is she?" Booth had already completed a circuit of the almost empty lab, ending up at Cam's office, and he was starting to get a bit antsy. "Where the hell is everybody?" It was only just after one.

"It's lunchtime, Booth, we're quiet and it's a nice day outside. Mostly everyone's at lunch. That's where I'd be too, if I didn't have this -" she indicated a mountain of paperwork "- to get done." She initialed another form and placed it in her 'out' tray with a flourish. The look she gave him from under her lashes was faintly amused. "If you're looking for Dr Brennan, I believe she and Angela have gone to lunch too. Something about 'girl time', if I understood Angela correctly." She folded her hands in her lap and regarded the FBI agent steadily. "Was Dr Brennan expecting you?"

When the only answer Booth gave was the hiss of his breath expelled through clenched teeth, a sympathetic look crossed her face and she swiveled her chair to face him. She flicked a look down the length of him and smiled. Apart from looking pretty darn sharp, he also looked decidedly put out. "Something going on here I should know about, big guy?"

Booth narrowed his eyes with faint suspicion. "No, why? What have you heard?" His tone edged on belligerent. He seriously doubted whether Brennan had said anything to anyone about what had happened between them at the pool, but Cam could be freakishly perceptive at times. He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck wearily, returning her smile with vague apology.

She regarded him for a long moment before answering. "I haven't heard a thing. But I know you." She gave him another keen look. "You and Brennan have another fight or something? Want to tell Aunty Cam?" This last bit made him smile, as she had meant it to; there was nothing remotely materteral about Cam and she knew it.

He hesitated for a heartbeat, knowing it would be cathartic to get the whole damn thing off his chest, before flashing her a rueful smile.

"Nah, thanks Cam. This one's for Bones and me to deal with, one way or the other."

~o0o~

Five o'clock. Booth pulled the door of the conference room closed behind him, at long last escaping from the deep rumble of voices that would probably continue late into the night.

Work had overtaken his personal plans yet again. When he'd returned to the Hoover Building after his wasted trip to the Jeffersonian he'd been mad enough to kick an intern. Then, before he could even finish his coffee, he'd been called straight in for a consult on an ongoing investigation that had crossed over into one of his own. The complex financial twists and turns of the other agent's case had hijacked him for most of the afternoon. Finance definitely wasn't his forte and the time had dragged by with agonizing slowness.

He checked his phone again, hoping for a message or a missed call. Nothing. He keyed text onto the screen, his thumb hovering over the buttons. With a sigh he hit 'send'.

_Call me._

~o0o~

Brennan looked at the clock for the umpteenth time that afternoon; it was almost six. Suddenly she stilled and shot a glance over her shoulder warily; she could hear him coming. His voice was only a murmur as he returned one or two greetings from those of her co-workers who were still at their desks. Most of the workstations were already empty as the techs drifted off home. She caught sight of him as he circled the forensic platform on his way to her office. She felt a little flutter of nervousness in her stomach. Ridiculous. It was Booth. Suddenly she recalled the feel of his breath against her mouth. Oh, god, _it was Booth_.

"Brennan, you're staring into space with a sappy look on your face. Are you coming down with something?" Angela's dry tone brought her out of her reverie, and Brennan fumbled with the cordless mouse on her desk, trying to give the impression she'd been in the middle of something. Angela reached out wordlessly and took the mouse out of Brennan's hand, spinning it so that it was the right way around. "It helps if you use it like this."

Brennan frowned, unsettled by the lack of composure she was experiencing. "I was just - "

"Hey Bones." Suddenly he was there, leaning indolently against the door frame, hands in his pockets, mouth-watering smile curving his lips. "You didn't call me back." Brennan stiffened involuntarily at the softly spoken words, taken by surprise regardless of how aware of his arrival she had been.

After a quick nod acknowledging his greeting Brennan kept her eyes studiously on the open document displayed on her computer, typing nonsense in an effort to look busy. Angela had no such reservations; she swung around at the sound of his voice and let out a low whistle.

"Whew, G-man. Looking good." She took a step towards him, running a finger down the underside of the lapel of his jacket. "New suit?" Booth nodded, and he flicked her a gratified smile, but his attention slewed back to Brennan almost immediately. Angela realised with surprise that Brennan was avoiding meeting his eyes. _Interesting_.

Angela flicked a glance between the two partners, suspicion prickling her senses. With Brennan it was always hard to tell what was going on in that head of hers, but Angela took another look at the tall man in the doorway. Booth looked different somehow. Sizzling hot, but that was a given. She couldn't put her finger on it, narrowing her eyes as she asked playfully, "Have you been revving up your workout, Agent Booth?"

This time Booth turned to look at her properly, a wide grin spreading across his face. "As a matter of fact Angela, Bones and I have started a new fitness regime."

Angela' brows shot up. "Oh really?" she said slowly, waiting for more.

"Laps." He pushed himself away from the door frame and came fully into the office to stand behind Brennan's chair. He leaned close and peered over her shoulder at what she'd been working on so diligently, and smirked when he saw that the only thing that fierce look of concentration she been wearing had produced was a screen load of gobbledegook.

Brennan hit the 'boss button' hastily and the Jeffersonian logo filled the screen. She still hadn't spared her partner more than that first surreptitious glance, but her back tingled with awareness. He was standing so close she could feel the radiant heat from his body.

Booth had stayed slightly bent and turned his head so that the next question was delivered close to her ear. "Isn't that right Bones? We were doing laps?" His breath teased her earlobe.

Color flooded the anthropologist's face; she wasn't quite sure what they were talking about anymore, but she found the words didn't really matter. She took a deep breath to calm herself, but only wound up filling her head with the teasing scent of him, a scent that was usually so comforting but today somehow disturbing.

"Laps?" Angela asked on a laugh, "Are we talking the sitting-on kind of lap or the track kind or what?"

"Neither. The pool kind." Booth straightened and watched for Brennan's reaction – there it was, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and frowned a little. He wryly admitted to himself that was enjoying making her squirm; evidence that she wasn't impervious to the heat that had been generated between them that day in the water.

"You got Brennan into a swimming pool?" Angela cried, cutting through his thoughts. She turned to her friend incredulously. "I thought you told me swimming pools were like … petri dishes of disease or whatever?" She dropped the timbre of her voice, purring suggestively. "What happened, Bren, find the right kind of cure?" She sent a suggestive glance at Booth.

"No, wha -?" The frown that had been playing around Brennan's eyes turned into a full blown scowl. "Angela, what I said was indoor pools release toxic gases such as nitrogen trichloride which can be very dangerous. And bacteria and viruses thrive in a moist area like a pool." Caught up in what she was saying, she turned to Booth, enthusiasm for her subject lighting up her eyes. "Like _Cryptosporidium parvum_ for example – the oocysts can survive in chlorinated water for days …"

Her voice trailed off. He'd taken the extra step to her desk and was now perched on its edge, close to her chair. His long legs were stretched out in front of him; an effective barrier blocking her escape. His thigh brushed her arm as he settled himself, and she couldn't ignore the rush that the glancing touch had given her. She looked up at him and watched as one side of his mouth lifted sardonically. The movement mesmerised her and the recurring memory of that mouth over hers pushed the science away again. She gave her head a little shake in an effort to break the spell and shuffled some paperwork.

Angela pulled a face, privately vowing never to go swimming in a pool again. "Eeuw, Brennan, way to kill the passion." She made the comment jokingly, but her friend's hands stilled and a wary look came over her face. Angela's expression became thoughtful. _Even more interesting_.

Brennan ignored the teasing comment and shot a look of annoyance at her partner. "What are you going here, Booth? Do we have a case?" Brennan was abrupt, almost rude, and she deliberately pushed her chair back a few inches, out of the danger zone.

"Nah, everything's quiet." Booth smiled calmly back at her, "I thought we should talk about our new _fitness regime_." The emphasis he placed on those two words made her eyes widen in alarm. They locked onto his, her trepidation plain. She tried to pretend to herself that she didn't know what he was talking about, but she wasn't that good a liar.

At Brennan's sharp intake of breath, Angela finally worked out how Booth was different. Dangerous. Booth looked dangerous, but in a subtly different way from when he had a murderer in his sights and he was hot on the trail. Angela was pretty sure he had an entirely different sort of prey in his sights right now. She looked at her friend with sympathy. She doubted whether Brennan's precious compartmentalizing could survive Booth if he really put his mind to the task. She smiled. _Good_.

"I'll leave you two to talk – er – fitness then, okay? I'm heading home." Angela edged towards the door.

"Sure, Angela, see ya." Booth still had his partner pinioned with his smile; his attention hadn't wavered.

Neither of them noticed Angela actually leave, or saw her step in front of Hodgins as he made his way to the office.

"Booth still around?" He enquired, trying to look past Angela, but she kept moving to block his view.

"Booth's not seeing anyone at the moment, Jack. Or, more accurately, he's only seeing Brennan." Angela's words didn't register with him straight away; he'd spotted Booth in Dr Brennan's office and made to head over that way, but her hand stayed him.

"But I need to talk to him about the game this weekend." He dragged his eyes away from his quarry and looked at her with a frown. "Huh? What did you say?"

Angela crossed her arms over her chest. "I said not now, bug boy."

"Oh." Hodgins peered narrowly over Angela's shoulder at the couple in the office. "Oh?" He drew the word out to a question, still confused. He watched as Booth leaned in close to Brennan and ran the back of one finger along her jaw line. Jack could see the color wash up over her face from where he was, but she held her ground. The body language cues being played out in front of him eventually registered on Jack's poor befuddled male brain. He looked back at Angela, a smile playing on his face. "Oh."

"It's been fun matching wits with you Jack, but we've got to go now." She tugged on his arm and he turned away reluctantly, half of him wanting to watch what was going on in Brennan's office. "That means you, too." She added pointedly.

"What brought this on?" Jack wanted to know, sending a last glance over his shoulder.

"I have no idea, but it's about freakin' time." She squeezed his arm as they walked towards the exit. "Let's get out of here and go home. We're pretty much the last ones here anyway." She said, unable to resist glancing back one last time. A satisfied smile curled her lips.

They flicked the main lab lights off as they left, leaving the glow from Brennan's office the only illumination in the vast space.

~o0o~

"Sure, Angela, see ya." Booth said the words automatically, his attention focussed on Brennan. She couldn't seem to look away from him either.

"What are you doing here, Booth?" The question was asked more gently this time, and a look of resignation settled over her features. He obviously had no intention of letting whatever was on his mind go so she decided she may well be patient. No doubt he'd get to the point in his own good time.

"Just wanted to see you." he replied softly, his voice like liquid gold. He leant forward, running the back of one finger along the deep angle of her jaw. He watched her closely, a tiny part him braced for the possibility of some sort of physical reprimand for his action.

She felt hot color sting her face at the unexpected intimacy of his touch, but she didn't pull back. "You only saw me the day before yesterday." She countered, her attitude brisk and businesslike.

"Mmm, sure did." He replied, his eyes touching every part of her. He wasn't going to give in that easily. Brennan was so used to him keeping to the rules of their relationship; she needed a bit of a shake up. "And what I saw was very … beautiful." He rolled his tongue around the word. It was a relief not to try and keep the honest pleasure out of his voice for a change. "Aren't you going return the compliment and tell me that I look good today?" he teased.

Brennan's gaze flickered over him despite herself, taking in the breadth of his shoulders, the excellent cut of the new suit … and that damn tie. She frowned at it, and her eyes shot up to his and met the smirk he couldn't conceal. She stood abruptly, disconcerted. But that action meant his eyes remained level and the warmth between them amplified when she realised he was now staring openly and appreciatively at her breasts. Awareness flooded through her and she willed her body not to react to his stare.

He'd never so blatantly admired her body before and she found it extremely unsettling. But she'd long ago mastered the art of pushing down the attraction between them and she drew on it now. Her hand was steady and the tranquil mask she usually wore around him was in place. She reached past him and picked up the file she'd planned working on and took it over to the sofa. Inside she was feeling a little desperate, hoping to get the dynamics back to normal by putting a bit of distance between them.

Booth had other plans; he followed, settling down close beside her on the sofa, his head lolling back onto the throw she had over the headrest. He edged over until they were touching from shoulder to thigh. He ran a finger lightly down the length of her arm in a touch halfway between a tickle and a caress and she shivered in response.

"Booth, stop it." She rounded on him, exasperated. "What are you doing?"

He tilted his head and fluttered his lashes facetiously, charming her easily. "Flirting with you."

She laughed at his antics, but with his words came the inevitable confusion. "I don't understand. You're flirting with me? Why?"

His expression slowly sobered. That was the moment he almost gave up. Almost. Without warning he leant forward and placed a kiss on her mouth, and felt her lips tremble under his before she started to back off. He deepened the kiss, and when she responded instinctively by parting her lips, he ran his tongue along the sensitive inner surface of her top lip. He felt a tremor run through her body, and then a matching tremor ran through his own.

He pulled back, looking at her intently. "_That's_ why." He took a moment to calm down, panting from the rush their kiss had produced. "I told you it wasn't over."

Brennan's neck and face were flushed, her chest heaving with the effort it was taking to get herself back under control, but she managed it. She let go of the handfuls of his shirt she hadn't even been aware of bunching into her fists. Her eyes never left his face. When she finally spoke, her voice was composed, even cool. "I'm not going to have sex with you Booth."

He answered her calm assertion by taking possession of her mouth again, one hand threaded through her hair and the other pressing into her thigh. Her lips parted under his instantly, answering him touch for touch, tongue for tongue. So much heat shot between them he thought he would implode with the force of it. He finally lifted his head and looked into her dazed eyes.

"Wanna bet, Bones?" He barely breathed the words, and her eyes closed briefly as she processed their impact.

"I'm not having this conversation with you." Her voice was ragged, and when she pushed him away weakly he didn't resist, getting to his feet as she did. They eyed each other warily for a moment or two before she turned away.

He watched evenly as she threw her phone into her bag and scrabbled in the desk drawer for her keys. Several files were shoved haphazardly into her briefcase along with her laptop. When she propped the case against her desk and turned to get her jacket from the hook he was already there, silently holding it out for her. Slipping her arms into the sleeves, she murmured husky thanks.

But Booth had no intention of letting her run away this time. He took a deep breath through his nose. Make or break, this was the moment.

She sensed he was about to speak, and pre-empted him with a rush of words, keeping her eyes studiously pinned to the floor. "We're partners, Booth. The best in our field. I don't want that to change." Only then did she look up at him, disconcerted to find that he'd silently moved closer to her, and was only a hand's-breadth away.

"That doesn't have to change." He moved his feet slightly and deliberately nudged his hip into hers. She edged back until she felt the gentle bump of the wall against her ass. Booth placed a hand flat against the wall on either side of her head, encircling her with his arms but not touching her in any other way. They shared a brief, faintly ironic look, the memory of being in almost the same position at the pool uppermost on both their minds.

"We have different expectations of sex, Booth. It might not turn out the way we imagine." She said, trying to use reason to deflect him. She tried to ignore the way he was looking at her even while his expression sent a shiver down her spine.

"But you've at least imagined having sex with me?" He purred, leaning his forehead against hers for the briefest moment before giving her a sideways glance. "Are you worried you won't like it?" He smirked, shifting his legs so that hers were trapped between his own. He flexed his thighs until they touched hers, watching her face all the while, her quickly indrawn breath his reward.

She scoffed lightly at his tongue-in-cheek question, shaking her head for emphasis. Her hair brushed his face, teasing him with its silkiness. She tried another tack. "We don't really see eye to eye on a lot of things."

"We do on the important stuff." He nuzzled her neck, sprinkling kisses along her jaw. When he heard her groan faintly, he pulled back and looked at her seriously.

"I couldn't care less what words you use, Bones. I know you want me."

"Wanting's never been the issue, Booth." She replied dryly.

That revelation shut him up, but only temporarily. Somehow her hands had found their way to his chest and she tracked the leap of his heartbeat through the sensitive flesh of her palms. "Then what's the issue?" He asked distractedly.

She turned her face away before replying. "Belonging." Her hands kneaded lazy circles on his chest, the fleshy part at the base of her thumbs grazing his nipples every so often, and he felt possessed by her touch.

"Huh? You're turning my brain inside out." He mumbled, the sensations her actions generated pushing everything else out of his conscious mind. He doubted whether she even realised the effect her touch has having on him.

"That's not physically possible." She pointed out. Her hands stilled with the statement and he tried to pull himself back together.

"No, but it's emotionally possible." His expression lent his words emphasis.

Her voice was so low when she replied that he had to duck his head to hear the words. "I wouldn't know about that."

"What, you don't have emotions?" He shifted his head again so that he could see her eyes, but she turned her face the other way, evading him.

Her mouth primmed to a thin line. "I try not to."

"And that works for you?" His question was just a little incredulous, laughter at its base.

She shrugged, her attitude suddenly defensive. "Mostly."

He watched the conflicting emotions she tried so hard to ignore wash across her face. "So if I do this -," He trapped her bottom lip between his teeth with teasing pressure, pressing his hips experimentally into hers. She didn't shy away from the evidence of his arousal, and he increased the pressure pleasurably. " - you don't feel anything?"

"Of course I feel something." This time her hands snaked around his ribcage. "Your arousal causes your sebaceous, sweat and other glands to produce a pheromone plume that my olfactory receptors can sense neurologically." She was trying to create a distance with words where she'd failed to create it physically. Her sense of self-preservation kicked in instinctively, seeking from pure habit to deflect the course these moments were taking. "The concept of coding efficiency holds that sensory neurons are adapted, through both evolutionary and developmental processes, to the statistical characteristics of their natural stimulus. The correlation of olfactory, auditory and neural stimuli is the process that produces the net result." She saw him wince faintly at the clinical description and hurried to fill the silence with more facts. "The quantitative properties of both the natural stimulus and the reception processes are predictable, within recognised limits." She finally fell silent when she realised Booth seemed to be holding his breath, a glazed expression on his face. "What's the matter? Is something unclear?"

He let his breath out in a whoosh. "No, it's just when you string that many squinty things together in one go, sometimes I lose my breath a bit." He let his body relax into her, still keeping the contact light. "I know all of that, well -" he pulled a wry face, "most of it. You've explained it to me before, plenty. Why do you always have to talk all squinty?" He complained softly, probing her neck with his nose, taking pleasure in the scent of her.

She arched her neck to give him better access and her preoccupation with the sensations his delicate touches were producing left her words unguarded. "You quote saints, I talk … squinty." At the look of realization that flashed into his eyes, she tensed, afraid that but revealing that ploy she'd revealed so much more. Her conscience jabbed at her; he was her best friend, he deserved the truth. "I'm producing pheromones too." She admitted reluctantly, and Booth's smile spread slowly across his face as he connected the dots.

"Really?" His smile was tinged with a certain amount of arrogance, but it sat well on him. He pushed the boundaries a little more. "But I want to know what you're _feeling_?"

Ever the scientist, Brennan responded literally. "My nipples are tingling and my breasts feel heavier."

Her response brought a bark of laughter from him, quickly stifled. "Jeez, Bones, sometimes …" He flicked a sardonic look at his partner. "Well, I'll admit that's a start, but it's not what I meant. What else?"

"I'm experiencing other physiological responses; genital vasocongestion and vaginal lubrication."

Booth looked nonplussed. "Is that normal?" he croaked.

Brennan's lips curled ironically. "I'd say it was completely normal. Around you." He didn't quite believe what he was hearing and a frown crossed his brow. Her arms crept further around his waist, wanting to reassure him. She put her face close to his and whispered confidentially, "I'm very aroused."

"Really? That's gotta be good. What else, other than being -" he kissed her mouth quickly "- aroused?"

She considered his question, grimacing faintly. "I feel a high level of nervous tension in my abdomen."

"That's just butterflies." He was blithely dismissive but the haunted quality that now tinged her expression jolted him. Guilt at the way he was pushing her niggled at him. He knuckled her chin, bring her face up to his so that he could see her properly. "Isn't it?"

Her innate honesty supplied the answer. "I'm not sure what you actually mean by 'butterflies' but I am feeling very anxious."

Booth felt his breath catch in his throat at the admission. "Bones, do you want me to stop?

An expression of sorrow engulfed her beautiful face and tears welled in her eyes. Doubts crowded in on her, crushing her. She wanted to do what was right. She _had_ to do what was right. So she nodded _'yes'_, her arms sliding away, fingers snagging at the last moment on his belt, then falling away completely.

Booth felt his shoulders droop as the fight drained out of him, disappointment and frustration kicking him the gut. Reluctantly he pushed himself away the wall so that she was no longer without an escape route. But before he could take the step backwards that would separate them completely, he heard her give a little whimper at the loss of contact. She grabbed his lapels, suddenly bereft. As she dragged him back into her body, her whispered, "_No!_" was more evocative than any shout.

Resisting her didn't even cross his mind, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, the swell of emotion he felt as their bodies slid together almost overwhelmed him. They fit together like two pieces of the same whole.

"_'__No'_, what?" He needed to hear the words.

"No, I don't want you to stop." Her voice was a husky sigh and the sound pierced his heart.

"You're sure?"

She nodded, a tremulous smile lighting her face. She felt wrung out from the emotions the last few minutes had engendered, but at the same time knew that _this_ was right.

"Kiss me." He demanded softly.

She lifted her face to his, tenderly pressing a kiss against his lips.

"So, where do you want to go from here, Bones?"

A wicked grin replaced the smile and she looked up at him from under heavy lids, in no doubt whatsoever. "Your place?"

_

* * *

_

Did you really think I'd leave it there? I won't leave you hanging for long - promise!


	5. You belong right here

_What started out as some fluffy one shots has turned into a little multific - and yes, dear readers, there are more chapters on the way - there is definitely a lot more to this particular story! __Thanks to so many of you who have favourited and alerted - and of course reviewed! - I am truly blown away by the support. So happy to know that you're enjoying! Don't be shy - press the little review button ... it really boosts the creative juices to get that review alert in the inbox!_

_Thanks to paxmundi, who beta'd this so quickly his eyes are still stinging! BTW: Raunch alert, youngsters. Go back if you're too young to read 'M'._

_Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [*maniacal laughter*]!)_

_I don't own iPod or TiVo either, but I think maybe I should have bought some shares._

* * *

Chapter Five: You belong right here.

* * *

The sound of Brennan's laughter echoed through the all but empty underground parking lot as she ran ahead of him. Booth couldn't help the grin that split his face in two. Her light-hearted playfulness touched him more than any words she could have used. Dr Temperance Brennan. World renowned genius. The most beautiful woman he'd ever known. Giggling like teenager. Because of him. The thought made him puff up his chest like a rooster and his blood surged like he'd just downed a double shot of Jack, like he'd just – _what the_?

"Bones, where are you?" His heart thumped high in his throat. He was alone in the half dark, Brennan having apparently disappeared into thin air. He looked about him wildly, peering into the shadows for her. Where the hell could she have gone? There were only a handful of cars left in the lot. He started to trot towards the SUV, anxiety beating a weird tattoo against his temples. "Bones?" he hissed, his whisper echoing in the cavernous space. He heard a noise – a moan? -then the faint scraping of a boot against concrete. He took cover behind a late model Lexus, uncaring that his new suit polished its gleaming paintwork. There it was again. Definitely human, halfway between a sob and a … snort? _Oh God, Bones, what's happened?_

Stealthy arms crept around his waist from behind, taking him completely by surprise. Adrenaline surged through him and then ebbed almost immediately, leaving his head pounding with excess epinephrine. He knew her touch instinctively, as if she'd been touching him intimately for years. In a way she had.

"_Bones!_ You don't sneak up on a sniper! How did you do that?" Paradoxically relief sharpened his voice and his tone was strained.

"You haven't been a sniper for quite some time, Booth." She sniffed dismissively and that riled him even more.

He twisted around in her embrace, frowning furiously, "I'm a highly trained Special Agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Who just got bested by a forensic anthropologist." Brennan bragged, her self-satisfied smile adding fuel to the fire of his indignation.

"You don't stop being sniper just because you stop wearing the uniform." He snapped at her, not enjoying being reminded of either fact. Brennan's expression became mutinous, and she started to pull her arms away from his body.

His hands encircled her wrists, halting their retreat, and he pulled her back to him. His eyes narrowed at the combative glint in her eye; exhilaration added colour to her cheeks. His jaw worked furiously as he bit down on the retort that sprang to his lips; his blood was up and he was ready for a tussle. He opened his mouth to argue the point with her then shut it again abruptly. Instead he turned on his heel, her wrist still held captive, and headed with determination towards the truck. "You really are the most infuriating woman I've ever known." He ground out the words, punctuating them with his footsteps. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

She let herself be pulled along behind him, enjoying the drag on her shoulders on several levels, none of them conscious. "You know, your reaction to being surprised by my attack is entirely predictable on an anthropological basis."

"You didn't _attack_ me." He scoffed, opening the door to the SUV and bundling her none-too-gently into the cab. When he slapped her ass a little over-enthusiastically to hurry her up she glared at him, her lips forming an 'O' in surprise at the sting, but she wasn't distracted from making her point.

"No, but I overturned your perception of being in control." She didn't attempt to disguise the pleasure at her achievement; the look she gave him was blatantly smug.

Booth sighed. He felt hyped with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, and for once her needling was hitting the mark.

She was oblivious to the nuances in his expression and steamed on in full flight, "Anthropologically the alpha male – that would be you - feels threatened when the alpha female, who he perceives as a beta female – that would be me – is able to surpass him in any arena." She didn't attempt to soften the blow. "You just don't like that I was able to get the better of you."

The look he gave _her_ as he settled himself in the driver's seat should have warned her to tread carefully. His only response to her goading was to press his lips together more firmly. He started the SUV and headed towards the exit.

"What's the matter Booth? Cat got your tongue?" she taunted, using the words he'd thrown at her at the pool the other day against him.

This side of Brennan unsettled him; he wasn't used to her pushing his buttons like this and it wasn't a comfortable feeling. Seems the empirical scientist was a quick study; no surprise there. The fact that she liked to play dirty occasionally did, however, surprise him.

He felt the irritation he'd been suppressing suddenly erupt through his surface calm. He slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the kerb, ignoring the indignant blast of a car horn from just behind them. He leant into her, his hands going to her shoulders, and she squirmed under the intensity that pique had lent to his grip. "Words, it's always words with you. It's not a competition you know. Are you purposely trying to sabotage this?" He gave her a shake, his expression intense. "I should have taken you on the floor in the lab when you were panting for me." The instant the words were out of his mouth he regretted them; she looked so shocked. "Ah, Bones, I'm sorry I spoke to you like that. I would never -" His voice trailed away; he couldn't believe he'd let his anger override his innate values.

Brennan had stilled, her eyes downcast. He cursed himself for losing his temper; he'd never spoken to her like that, but then everything about this evening was breaking new ground between them. But his thoughts of self-reproach fell away when he felt her hands had curl around his waist, smoothing the fabric of his shirt across his back in rhythmic strokes.

He tilted his head to look at her, trying to gauge what was going on. She brought her eyes up to meet his and the raw hunger he saw there slammed into him. When the tip of her tongue peeped out from between her parted lips, a suspicion started to gather in his brain. When that pink tip ran across the fullness of her bottom lip, suspicion turned to disbelief.

"Oh god, you're turned on by that aren't you?" he asked raggedly.

She smiled slightly and teased her bottom lip with her teeth, "Well, if I'd known it was an option …"

He went on incredulously, "Jeez, it's like opening the floodgates with you. How could I work with you for all this time and not see this sex kitten thing going on? I mean …" He sat back, raking his fingers through his hair and sending the spikes skewing in crazy angles.

"You know I'm very good at compartmentalizing." She frowned at him, as if that explained everything. Her hand reached up and, with a few deft strokes of her fingers, she flicked his hair back into place. She grinned, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, and messed his hair up again, just for fun. "Besides, I've never made a secret of the fact that I enjoy sex."

"It's just … I never expected you to be so -" He broke off, unable to put into words the effect her ardor was having on him. From being so closed off to being so open with him now was a revelation.

"Once I make up my mind about something, Booth, I don't generally hold back." He voice dropped to a husky growl. "And I'd prefer that you didn't either. Why are you complaining?"

He shot her a rueful smile, "Considering we haven't even done the deed –"

"- had sexual intercourse." she interjected, eager to clarify his statement.

He nodded slowly, a half smile lighting face. "Whatever. I can't say I've got much to complain about." He pursed his lips, trying to contain the excitement that coursed through him. "Are you going to give me reason to complain?" he asked in mock challenge.

Brennan gave the question serious consideration, before a wicked gleam lit her eyes. "That depends." She leaned back into the corner of her seat and used the hated tie to pull him over to her side of the car, winding it around her hand until he felt the blood start to pump in his throat from the pressure. Her eyes burned into his and he pushed two fingers under his collar and loosened the band that was digging into his neck, the ends sliding through the knot until the blue silk fell away. He flipped the top button of his shirt undone. Brennan wordlessly hit the window button, the rush of night air that washed over them doing nothing to cool the heat that was building inside the cab. She held the tie up between them for a moment, her smile saccharine sweet, before she bundled it up carelessly in her hands and thew it out of the truck window. It seemed to hover in the air for a split second before fluttering gently downwards and landing in the gutter. She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, raising her face for his kiss.

"Bones, you are going to drive me insane, you know that, don't you?" Their lips met and they spent several long moments exploring each other, lips and tongues eager to feel and touch and taste.

"I seriously doubt whether your grip on reality is likely to be affected by anything I may say or do." Her voice was rough with desire, and it took a while for her to get her breathing back under control.

Booth sat back reluctantly and shook his head, trying to clear his mind enough to continue the drive. He gave her a sideways glance that was filled with irony. "Wanna bet?"

~o0o~

Booth fumbled with the door to his apartment, his hands suddenly klutzy. He turned the key the wrong way in the lock three times before a small hand slid over his and turned it once, unlocking the mechanism smoothly.

They stood at the entrance of his apartment, neither of them quite sure where to look. Booth was almost overwhelmed by the impulse to do something corny, like sweep Brennan up in his arms and carry her over the threshold or get down on one knee and swear eternal love, but he bit down on the thought with a whimsical smile at just how that might go down.

"What?" Her surreptitious glances saw the grin come and go.

"Nothing." He ushered her inside, his hand at the small of her back. "Ah, would you like a drink or something?" _'Smooth, Seeley, very smooth.' _Now that she was actually here, he was as nervous a kid at his first prom.

"Yeah, sure." Brennan let him take her light coat and wandered over to peer out of the window. He slipped his suit jacket off and hung both on the coat rack near the kitchen, watching the gentle sway of both jackets as they settled on the hook with something approaching contentment. Dusk had fallen without his being aware and shadows filled the corners of the room. He watched her watch the traffic for a beat or two, her outline chimera-like against the pink tinged sky. A lump rose in his throat at her being here, at what had passed between them in the last hour. She reached down and turned on a table lamp, the prosaic action diffusing his sense of unreality in an instant. Brennan stood there solid and real, not a figment of his imagination after all. They exchanged a smile loaded with affection.

"Make yourself at home." Booth nodded towards the sofa and she took a seat, glancing around her as if everything was strange and new, even though she knew his apartment almost as well as her own. He was glad he'd spent so much effort on Sunday getting the place tidy, but then his eyes lit in dismay on his running gear from this morning; shorts, tee shirt, underwear and a particularly potent pair of running shoes and socks. He'd forgotten that he'd dumped them all unceremoniously in an untidy heap near the kitchen before his shower. A quick glance at Brennan to see whether she'd noticed revealed that she was studying his TiVo remote like it was some futuristic artefact. He scammed the pile into the kitchen with the side of his foot, bobbing down to furtively to throw the whole lot into the trash, out of sight.

He took a couple glasses out of the cabinet, polishing them with a cleanish dish towel before pouring a generous amount of scotch into each. Street sounds pervaded the silence as they sipped their drinks, suddenly ridiculously shy of each other again.

Brennan cleared her throat. "Booth, there's something I want to make clear. I still don't believe in your 'happy ever after' scenario." She said it a little gruffly, anxious that there be no misunderstanding between them.

"I know that Bones." He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice but failed. "You're saying you want to be fuck buddies, and that's it?" He cringed at his own choice of words, but didn't try to amend them. If she wanted things straight up, he'd give it to her straight up.

"I don't know what that means, although if I break that sentence down into its components and make a logical leap, I suppose my answer to your question would be 'yes'. Unless I'm missing something that isn't accurately conveyed by the words in and of themselves?"

He let his head fall back on the sofa, finding her need to articulate everything draining right now. "You want no strings – sorry – you want to have sex but not a relationship with me?" The words stuck in his throat, but he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid this conversation. It was a subject they'd explored at length, and she'd always made her position clear. He'd accepted long ago that if he wanted her, he'd have to take the whole package. It didn't stop him knowing without a doubt that they're future was together. He bunched his hands in his pockets petulantly, ruining the line of his new jacket.

Brennan frowned, nonplussed. "I already have a relationship with you, Booth. We're partners."

Now he sat forward, his expression earnest, "No, you don't get it. I mean a live-together, argue-over-dinner, share-the-big-stuff, laugh-about-our-friends, love, hug, fuck, cry and everything-else-in-between kind of relationship." Maybe he could shock her into seeing the truth.

"Well," She regarded him calmly. "Strictly speaking I already _have_ that relationship with you, Booth."

"What?" He was astounded at the way her thought processes worked. "Bones, you've got to be kidding me; you're giving me this, now?"

"Aside from the live together part." She went on as if he hadn't spoken, her eyes focussed on the middle distance apparently trying to accurately summon a memory. "Although Angela says there are a lot of married couples in society who spend a great deal less time together than we do, and I value her judgment on these matters." She turned back to him, clear eyed. "And the fuck part, of course." She added conversationally, "But that's about to change."

He ran his hands along the length of his thighs, benefiting from the distraction as he tried to get his breath back. "Bones, talking to you about this stuff is like trying to explain an iPod to an Egyptian."

She gave him an amused look. "I'm fairly sure you can buy iPods in Egypt, Booth. I believe you could purchase one almost anywhere."

"God, please give me strength." He muttered under his breath. "Okay, like explaining song lyrics to … a … a duck!"

Her mouth screwed up to one side, by now completely confused. "You're calling me a duck?"

"Just trust me on this, okay Bones?"

"You're mixing metaphors like a crazy person." She said it under her breath, exasperated, but he caught it all the same.

"You make me a crazy person. Sheesh." He drew out the last word, scrubbing his hands across his face wearily.

Brennan's tangled thoughts flickered across her face, her expression belying her intelligence quotient. "So you _don't_ want to have sex with me any more?"

Booth groaned softly and reached for her. "Bones, for a genius you ask some really stupid questions." He shimmied closer and scooped his arm around her waist, drawing her onto his lap. Her instinctive resistance melted away when he took her hand lightly and kissed the soft flesh of her palm, letting his tongue drag along her life line and over the faint ridges that circled her wrist. She tasted of vanilla and latex, and the contradiction charmed him. Her low chuckle caught him unawares, and he looked up at her enquiringly.

"Tickles." She murmured, letting her head fall onto his shoulder in supplication.

"Want me to stop?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead kissing a trail of soft caresses up her arm that made her tremble.

Brennan leant against him, borrowing his solidness, and her other hand insinuated itself between their bodies seeking his warmth. "Want you to hurry up." was her husky reply. Her fingers curled around the length of his erection and he gasped when she applied just enough pressure to make him squirm, teasing him gently with soft swipes of her thumb. _'God Almighty, Jesus, Mary and Joseph._' Sensations were shooting out from his centre in every direction. His lips sought hers again in a deep kiss that left them both breathless.

A teasing smile curled her mouth and her voice rippled through his chest, "So you _do_ want to have sex with me?"

In his head he made a witty comment. The wittiest, pithiest comment ever. From his mouth the only sound that came out was an inarticulate moan. He couldn't envisage ever wanting anyone else but this amazing woman, he loved her with every ounce of his being, he wanted to spend every moment he had left on this earth with her and she was sitting there, pressed against him, doing incredible things with her hand, asking him whether he wanted to have sex?

Brennan slid from his lap in one sinuous movement and stood before him. Her hands skittered nervously across her waist and down and over her thighs, smoothing non-existent creases, and that small tell melted his heart. When she held out her hands mutely to him he took hold of them eagerly, his long fingers engulfing hers. He always felt the strength of her in her hands; capable, nimble, clever, cool. He was so proud of her. She tugged gently and he accepted her tender encouragement. He rose to his feet until they stood close together with only their hands touching, each tantalised by the other's proximity.

She looked at him with sweet solemnity and his mouth went dry.

"Make love to me, Seeley." She whispered, her voice catching slightly on the words. He knew they were her gift to him, and that made him happy.

Brennan took a step backwards towards the bedroom, but he found his feet fixed to the floor. When their arms were stretched out at full length between them, she turned back enquiringly. Her eyes narrowed in an effort to read his expression. He knew he should move, but he'd been mesmerised by the unexpected look of need in her eyes. It was only when she let go of one hand and reached to unbutton her blouse that he came out of the daze, hissing "Wait." Booth felt feverish with longing for her but he wanted to take things slowly, savor each detail of her body as she revealed it to him.

Brennan tugged at his hand with more force this time, overbalancing him, and they bumped together, both giggling like teenagers. Her smile widened when she lifted his right hand between them, placing the palm flat against her breast. Her eyes were shining with excitement as she flexed her spine so that she was pushing into his grasp, restlessly seeking contact.

"I don't want to wait any more." Brennan's voice was bold, but she continued to watch him, a shadow crossing her face as doubt touched her. She didn't understand Booth's reticence, didn't realise that he was overwhelmed with the feelings that crowded his psyche. You want something so badly, you wait for something for so long, the reality of it literally takes your breath away.

His left hand found its way to her other breast and he basked in the heat of her skin that burned through the fabric of her clothes, feeling her nipples crest at the merest movement of his palms against them. Yearning flared in her eyes and lust ripped through him in response, undoing his resolve in an instant.

His fingers on the tiny buttons of her blouse were clumsy, and he felt gauche and ham-fisted. He took a deep breath, knowing she watched him intently. He forced himself to slow down, taking intense pleasure in the gleaming flesh being uncovered inch by inch. He placed a kiss at the concavity between her breasts and she shivered at the touch of his lips. His chin rubbed against the rise of each beautiful mound in turn, carefully so as not to let the rasp of his beard graze the delicate skin, but she pressed upwards into the touch to deepen the sensation. Her fingers threaded through his hair, kneading his scalp, and she moaned with pleasure as his lips left a trail of heat to her nipple. She let go of his head, pulling distractedly at his shirt with one hand and tugging her own away from her body with the other. Catching her hands in one of his own, he leant his forehead against hers, "You know, there's a perfectly good bed down the hall."

At his words Brennan swung away from him and headed purposefully down the hall, tripping slightly in her impatience. A grin split his face as he watched her try to toe off her boots on the way, hopping on one foot as she struggled with the zipper at her ankle. She let out a little growl and discarded them arbitrarily somewhere in the hall. Their bodies collided in the doorway of his bedroom as they tried to squeeze through at the same time and they glared comically at each other, falling back into the easy habits of yesterday's past.

Brennan's gaze caught on his mouth and her expression shifted. All at once her hands were on his chest, his arms, his thighs; she couldn't seem to touch enough of him at once. Her teeth nipped painfully his throat and he knew there'd be a mark there in the morning and he was pleased about it. He wanted them to leave their mark on each other.

Her weight pinned him in place against the door frame as they explored each other's mouths rapaciously. He gave in to a whim and scooped her up, taking the few short steps to the bed, their lips still locked together. Unsurprisingly she tried to wriggle out of his arms and they fell in a tangle of limbs onto the comforter. A giggle erupted from her as she lay there on her back and he smiled back at her, propping his head on his arm to better see her face.

"What?" She asked. He just kept staring at her, smiling at this strange creature who giggled and teased and provoked him beyond the edge of reason and still looked exactly like his partner.

"You're amazing." He licked the tip of his finger and ran it down the centreline of her chest and stomach, flicking the open edges of her blouse away while he feasted his eyes on her.

"Objectively I'd have to agree with you." She responded on a shiver as the air cooled the moist trail his finger left. Her voice was tinged with that adorable Hepburnesque drawl she liked to think made her sound funnier. She twisted her legs around until she was kneeling over him and her fingers were nimble and quick when she unbuttoned his shirt, pushing the white cotton roughly aside to pepper his bare chest with hot kisses. He felt the familiar tension start to build, and the sound of her quick breathing escalated his own.

He ran his hands down her arms, gripping her wrists lightly to hold still her enthusiastic exploration. She sought out his eyes, looking faintly annoyed at the interruption while she waited impatiently for him to speak.

He gathered his nerve. "I love you, you know that, right?" Suddenly it was crucial that she hear the words, right now, before they went any further, but he felt sick to his stomach at what she might say next. It didn't matter what she said next. Everything hinged on what she said next. Oh God, what had he done? She'd run for cover for sure. His head felt like it would explode while he waited for her to respond.

She shielded her eyes behind her lashes. "I know, Booth." The moment strung out; she obviously had more on her mind. Her hands were poised above his body and her mouth worked as she struggled to express her thoughts. He braced himself for whatever was coming.

With an almost imperceptible nod to herself as if she'd come to a decision, Brennan continued. "I think, applying the precepts and theoretical analysis that you have presented to me over the course of our association, and if I rationally examine my emotional and physical responses to you together with my observations of societal norms, as well as taking into account my co-workers' external observations of my behaviour I believe I can objectively say that, in my own way, I love you too."

"Huh?" Booth was gobsmacked. As much as he wanted to hear her say it, he couldn't quite believe the words had actually come out of her mouth. But his brain happily focused on the three words he'd been wanting to hear for what seemed like his entire life and ignored her squinty smokescreen. His heart showed on his face.

Brennan cradled her hand on his cheek. "Booth, do you think I don't value who _you_ are? You are the best person I have ever known. You are the most important person in my life, I acknowledge that without reservation. Angela says -.

"Angela has too much to say on just about on everything." He tried not to sound peevish.

Brennan smiled wryly. "Perhaps, but she says there are lots of different types of love, all of them valid." She looked at him properly, appeal in her eyes as she searched for the words to try and explain her feelings. "While I have no experiential evidence to refute your belief in 'eternal love' I continue to have a great deal of difficulty with the concept. But since I've known you, Booth …" Her voice trailed off as she frowned.

"What?" He wasn't sure whether he was going to like what was coming.

"You've opened my mind to concepts that I had previously discounted as ridiculous and without any credible bases."

Her answer simultaneously bewildered and delighted him, but she was smiling so that was a plus. "And that's a good thing?"

"That's a good thing, Booth." She dropped her chin to her chest; her next words were so softly spoken he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "I'd do anything for you."

Maybe Brennan didn't understand exactly what she was saying, what he saw written unmistakably on her face. Maybe he was reading too much into her words, but he didn't think so. Suddenly everything was okay. Spectacularly okay. He knuckled her under the chin, forcing her to look at him. Happiness shone from his smile. "Do you think maybe you could shut up and let me make love to you?"

"Anything, Booth." She gave him Hepburn on a grin again, relieved to see him smile.

A tiny mole just visible on her side fascinated him, and he pushed the fabric of her blouse back to better see, planting a kiss on the minute blemish. "I love that mole."

"See, Angela was right. Different types of love." Her lips brushed his ear and she breathed, "I have more."

"Let's leave Angela out of this." He kissed the mole again. "More, hey? Where?"

She chuckled provocatively and jutted her pelvis towards him lasciviously. His hands slid down to caress her ass, and he drew their hips together. She made a moue of impatience when she felt the hardness of his arousal and her hands scrabbled at his Cocky belt buckle.

"Just be patient, Temperance." He tried to still the frenetic movement at his waist, but she shucked his hands away brusquely.

"I want to touch you. Please." He almost came at her soft entreaty, groaning as he let her slide the leather belt out of its loops. She yanked the neck of his shirt apart, the herringbone weave straining at the buttons.

"Hey, watch the shirt. It's Brooks Brothers." He joked, beaming at her urgency.

"I'll buy you another one." She made quick work of the rest of the buttons and pushed the material over his shoulders with one efficient movement. The sleeves jagged on his wrists and he pulled away, frantically trying to flick his arms free of the double layer of fabric that restrained him as effectively as handcuffs. Brennan sat back on her heels and watched the show, her knees sinking into the mattress. He really had an incredible body; well developed muscles that rippled as he twisted in his task, the jerky motion of his arms sending reactive movement through his abdominals. And broad shoulders. Her lips parted a little as she continued taking stock. Excellently defined pectorals. And those damned perfect acromia. All of which were on display at the moment in fluid motion as he struggled with his designer bonds. His quadriceps femoris fought for dominance, flexing visibly beneath the midnight blue wool of his trousers as Booth tried to keep his balance. The rectus femoris eventually dominated the vastus medialis as he twisted his hips in an effort to untangle himself, and she watched the interplay of those muscles along his thighs with delight. Brennan was reminded that as much as bones fascinated her, the fleshy bits could be a lot of fun as well.

Booth's contortions ceased abruptly when he realised Brennan was just watching him thrash about. "Bones? Earth to Bones. A little help here would be good?" She shook herself mentally. Booth used the tips of his fingers to try and to slip one cufflink from his left sleeve so she concentrated on getting the other one out. She sat back with a smile at her success, staring at the small gold crossed bones in her hand. Booth dropped the other link into her palm with a soft 'ta da'.

She let the metal links fall from one hand to the other thoughtfully. "I gave these to you."

"I know." He slipped his arms from the sleeves of his shirt and tossed it on the floor.

Brennan smiled up at him, closing her fist over her gift. "I like it when you wear them."

He leaned in and kissed her soundly. "I know."

"Swear to me that our partnership won't change." Trepidation and anticipation swept across her face in equal parts.

He gripped her arms just below the elbow, giving her a little shake to emphasise his point. "I swear on my life."

Her fingers were instantly on his lips, cutting him off. "No, Booth. Not that." Her vehemence was a revelation. He pulled her hand away from his chin, soothing the palm with his thumb.

"I swear to God, Temperance." He informed her solemnly. She relaxed, finding comfort in the strength of his beliefs. "We're partners; we'll always be partners, no matter what."

They came together then, energized by the knowledge that there were no more barriers. Booth felt her hands go to his waist and he doubted whether he'd be able to control himself for very long. They'd been circling each other for far too long. Their gentle dance picked up speed, and the kiss they shared hinted at a desperate need.

Brennan's blouse landed on top of the white shirt, and he slipped the straps of her bra from her shoulders with shaky hands. When her breasts were freed from constraint, swaying heavy and perfect, Booth had to stop for a moment to get his breath back.

"You're so beautiful." He chided himself for his lack of finesse; he wanted shower her with compliments but the reality of her took his words away. His heart lifted when her eyes crinkled with pleasure at his sincerity.

Brennan ran her eyes over his upper body, following the path they'd travelled with the pads of her thumbs. "As are you." Her delivery was demure, but her next words were not. "But I want to see all of you. Naked. Right here and right now."

Their hands blurred as they stripped each other of the rest of their clothes, an exercise in frantic hunger. Fabric ripped, but neither of them cared or was even truly aware of it happening. Finally, there were no barriers between them and they moved without consciousness to each other, skin pressed frantically against skin, so hot they were almost seared together.

When Brennan wet her palm with her tongue and reached for him, stroking him confidently with one hand, he was swamped with contradictory feelings; excited and frightened and hopeful and doubtful, all at the same time. Sensations tumbled through him, and he sighed at the sense of rightness her touch alone brought him. God only knew if he'd survive anything more. Her quick fingers continued their exploration and he longed to return the favour. She shushed his inarticulate appeals with a deep kiss and continued her journey, discovering places he'd almost forgotten existed. He took it all, everything she had until he couldn't stand it another second.

He circled her wrists with his fingers, pushing her back and away, ignoring her whimper. "How 'bout you let me have my turn?" he suggested softly. His eyes coursed down the generous curves of her body, and she responded to the fire in them with a guttural moan, struggling blindly to reach for him again.

He hushed her with gentle kisses along the side of her neck. "Be patient, Temperance, we've both waited a hell of a long time for this and I want to make sure I'm not missing anything." Holding her still he moved down her body, kissing and sucking and nibbling at her sensitized flesh. He paused, a long sigh escaping his lips.

"What's wrong?" Impatience sharpened her tone.

"Huh? Nothing. Just found 'em." She could hear the satisfaction in his voice, but his unscheduled break only made her more edgy. She dug her heels into the bed restlessly while her hands clung to him.

"Patience is a virtue, Temperance." His smug homily made her fingers curl with frustration, her nerve endings screeching at the withdrawal of contact. His mouth reconnected with her flesh with a wet smack and a quiver shot through her stomach. He let his tongue circled her navel, taking his time, his eyes never leaving her face. When he followed the line of tiny moles he'd found to their natural conclusion, the jerk of her hips was incendiary.

"Booth, I can't … please … " Her words cut off abruptly and she writhed with pleasure, arching per back as his tongue continued its merciless path.

Their mutual need became prime; he wanted to be inside her as much as she wanted him there. He reached out an arm to find the packet of condoms in the bedside drawer, but his blind groping only succeeded in spilling the contents of the drawer onto the floor.

"Shit, shit, shit." He scrabbled around on the floor with one hand, stretching crazily while trying not to break contact with her.

Brennan chuckled softly, letting go of him reluctantly when he reached both hands to try and find the elusive packet. A muffled snarl of impatience rose as his head disappeared below the level of the bed and his soft curses mingled with the assorted sounds that accompanied his panicked search. She had no complaints however as his ass rose up off the bed as a result of his exertions, affording her a view of him she had yet to experience. She decided it was an aspect that required further investigation. A devilish smile crossed her face and she reached out, her hands cupping him gently. She was rewarded with a strangled yelp and his head shot up, the expression on his face priceless.

"You've got to be kidding me." He fixed her with a baleful glare. "You don't just do that without giving a guy some warning."

Brennan's grin erupted into giggles, which doubled when she saw the fistful of condoms he managed to retrieve. She dissolved into helpless laughter, her arms crossed over her chest in an effort to contain her mirth. "Are you planning on using all those? I think your confidence in your sexual prowess is -" she paused to catch her breath and started to chortle again, "- impressive."

"Oh God, Temperance, I'm so sorry." At the distress in his voice her laughter drained away uncertainly.

"What? Why?" She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him over to her unceremoniously. Little plastic packets scattered haphazardly over the sheets as he spread his hands to keep his balance.

"I wanted this – us - to be all romantic and I ruined it." His voice held that little boy lost quality that she always found endearing.

"I don't feel ruined." She stretched her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss onto the top of his head, leaning back as she gathered him to her chest. Neither of them felt any irony at the reversal of roles. She kissed his forehead tenderly, one kiss leading to two leading to more until he raised his face to hers, wholeheartedly accepting the comfort she offered. "In fact," her tongue explored his mouth, revisiting the contours she'd tried to memorise earlier, "I feel -" the pressure of his response drove her head back into the pillow, "- very -" he moved to hover over her, transferring his weight to his arms and taking back control. "- aroused." She turned the last word into a growl and he found he was impossibly hard. He nudged her hips, just once, and she opened up to him immediately.

Her nails raked his back, goading him into action and he surged forward into her. She took him in eagerly, rising to meet him as he sank into her, both of them grunting softly, the feeling simultaneously strange and familiar. Brennan whimpered at the moment of their joining, overwhelmed by the tenderness she felt for this man. A moan escaped his lips as she shifted a little, taking more of him in. Her legs wound themselves around his hips, keeping him pinned still for a long moment while her eyes searched his. He understood; he felt the same way. It had taken them so long to get to this point, neither of them wanted to let the moment go, no matter how much they wanted more. They kissed tenderly and she shifted subtly, taking his breath away.

He began to move inside her, slowly and steadily, her eyes locked onto his. Booth increased the tempo in response to the urging of her hands. The sensation of her silkiness sliding up and down his length was almost too much to bear. He closed his eyes, the picture of her hair spread wantonly over his pillow permanently etched on his brain.

He knew he didn't have the strength of will to last too much longer, but the same moment as dismay billowed across his brain he heard the staccato of her breaths begin to accelerate, and a low moan escaped from her lips. Seconds later he felt her convulsions gripping him as she came apart, and he felt himself start to let go. "Mine, mine, mine" was all he could think through the mist of sensation, silently repeating the words in time with his thrusts. He grasped her to him, never wanting to let go, as their movements slowed and calmed. They bodies relaxed but they didn't move apart.

"I think we did it right." Brennan's head was pressed into the crook of his neck, her arms twined around his chest. She was breathless and her lips rested lightly against the hollow just above his collar bone, the sweat of their exertions turning each word into a moist kiss.

Booth was already drifting in and out of wakefulness and her words didn't register properly, "What are you talking about?" he queried sleepily, pulling her closer into his embrace.

"I think we did it right. You told me that when two people have a connection, when they become one it's because they do it right."

His eyes snapped open, but her face was hidden from view. "What are you telling me, Bones?" Surprise made his voice squeak a little.

"That I … I feel a connection with you."

He was speechless, staying quiet while he absorbed her simple admission.

"You're quoting something I said years ago?"

"You still believe it, don't you?"

"Of course I do." Vague embarrassment at her cross-examination muffled his answer slightly.

They listened to the sound of their breathing settling back to normal as the darkness completed its occupation of the room. He hugged her to him again, contentedly happy, and curiosity eventually got the better of him. "How come you remembered that?"

"I remember everything you tell me." Her answer was matter-of-fact and its simple honesty warmed him.

Silence stretched comfortably between them again. Traffic from the street below offered a syncopated background hum, strangely comforting in its familiarity.

Something she'd said earlier at the lab popped back into his mind. "What did you mean about 'belonging' being an issue?"

This time it was her turn to be slightly self-conscious, but she didn't try to avoid his probing. "I don't really know."

"I don't get it." He found her answer confusing.

She burrowed her face further into his neck. "I want to belong, but I don't know what it means. I suppose if I knew what it meant I'd be able to belong somewhere."

"I know somewhere you belong. You've belonged there for a long time now."

"You mean the lab? I'm certainly in my element there. In fact, being at the top of my field -"

Booth twined his arms further around her and squeezed just hard enough to stop the flow of words. "Lab shmab." He said dismissively. "That's just a place. Nuh-uh, belonging involves people." Brennan looked up at him enquiringly, her head tilted to one side. "The place you belong is right here, next to my heart."

She didn't answer directly but snuggled happily into him as if she'd been spending their nights like this for years instead of it being the first time. He couldn't help touching her every few minutes; a shoulder, a hip, her stomach. Every time he did, she burrowed deeper into him with a little grunt.

"Go to sleep, Booth." She rolled over, pressing her back into his chest. He tried to sleep, he really did, but his mind still buzzed with the touch, the feel, the smell of her, of them. His swore to himself that he'd prove to her that this was exactly where she belonged. She'd never be in any doubt again. He listened to her drowsy snuffling for a while, revelling in the feel of her body cupped along the full length of his.

"Hey Bones," he hissed in her ear, "You really asleep?"

"Wha-? Not any more." She responded grumpily through a hazy doze.

"Don't suppose you wanna try and get it right again?" he asked hopefully.

She yawned and stretched luxuriantly, the indolent movement of her ass against him making him hard again. She twisted to look at him over her shoulder, one brow raised. "Wanna bet?"

~o0o~


	6. There's Got to be a Morning After

_Sometimes this site drives me nuts! For some reason the last of my tweaking didn't save - so apologies for the sloppy editing! Hope this works.  
_

_A/N: To the inestimable cathmarchr … thanks, sweetie (she hates when I gush!) _

_Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [*maniacal laughter*]!)_

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Chapter Six: There's Got to be a Morning After.

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Booth came to slowly, the sounds of someone moving around near the bed edging into his consciousness. He had a strong feeling of being watched and he felt a gentle breath against his cheek. One eye drifted open.

His son was leaning on the mattress, his head tilted to one side while he studied his father's face.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Parks." Booth smiled sleepily at his son, his head still half buried in the pillow. "What's up, buddy?"

"You been having a party?" Parker held out his hand, his little fist full of square plastic packets. "I found eight. Is it like a treasure hunt?"

"Huh?" Slowly Booth's brain started to function like the highly trained investigator he was. "Parker, what are you doing here?" A low snuffle from the other side of the bed brought the whole of last night back into sharp focus. Booth glanced at the bedside clock; a little after six am. That was when he panicked; Parker was in his bedroom collecting condom packets and Bones was in his bed utterly and deliciously naked. He felt his brain cells short out one by one at the thought of trying to explain the situation to his son.

Parker, on the other hand, didn't see anything that needed explaining. "Mom brought me; she's in the living room having a cow." In other circumstances his exaggerated eye roll might have earned him a curt reminder from his father not to be disrespectful, but Booth was too flabbergasted to worry about his progeny's manners right now. "Gramma's sick and Mom wants me to stay with you while I get over my flu."

Booth closed his eyes, preferring the view on the backs of his eyelids to the shape the morning looked like it was taking. Of course Rebecca's here too, how else would Parker have gotten here? He scrunched his face up even further until his lips were pulled back into a comical grimace. Could the morning get any more uncomfortable? Brennan shifted drowsily, rolling onto her side until the smooth curves of her body warmed his back. Her hand slid over his hip and he almost jumped six inches when her fingers slid south, her nails scratching idly through his pubic hair. He sat up abruptly, trying to subtly shift her hand away without either his son or Brennan being aware of it. The movement only brought her more fully awake and she made a small grumble of protest.

"Booth?"

"Hi, Dr Bones." Parker's smile doubled, dimples at the ready.

Brennan peered myopically over Booth's shoulder, returning the little boy's grin. "Hi, Parker."

Booth froze, completely unprepared for his son and his … partner coming face-to-face in these circumstances. He had no idea how to handle it. Before he could marshal his thoughts into anything resembling order, another voice added to the clusterfuck in his head.

"Seeley, are you up yet? Can I come in?" Rebecca was at the door, rattling the door knob.

She paused when she heard his horrified "_No!_" and pulled her hand away from the knob hastily. Seeley was a modest man, but considering she'd seen everything he had on offer she hadn't expected him to be so coy. A speculative look crossed her face as another thought occurred to her and she leaned in a little closer to the gap of the half open door and unashamedly eavesdropped for more information.

Booth forced himself to relax, continuing on more reasonably, if a little loudly. "I mean - wait a minute, I'll be out in a minute." He turned to Parker, the smile fixed on his face. "How about you get the coffee going like I showed you, hey, buddy? Just press the button on the machine; it's all set up to go."

"Okay Dad. See ya, Dr Bones." A flash of dimples again and the little boy was gone. They could hear him talking excitedly to his mother, their voices fading as they headed towards the kitchen.

Brennan yawned widely and looked around the room with curiosity. She hadn't really taken in a great deal of her surroundings last night. She was unsurprised to see everything set out with military precision, but several pieces of colored fabric poking out of the wardrobe door as well as one or two of the drawers, hinted at chaos quickly covered up. It was so Booth, she decided; all neat and tidy on the outside, a kaleidoscope lurking under the surface. She grinned, pleased at the analogy. "What's going on Booth?"

He was frantically pulling on a pair of track pants, hopping on one leg as his foot caught in the stretchy fabric. "I don't know. Parker said something about Rebecca's mom being sick." He glanced over at her, catching the edge of her smile. His heart melted at her mussed hair, the smudges of makeup around her eyes that somehow looked incredibly sexy, her creamy shoulders against the Spartan white of his sheets. His heart thumped high in his chest and he took a deep breath. "Good morning." He leant towards her, a grin spreading across his face. God, she was beautiful.

"Good morning." She replied. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek in a gesture that was already wonderfully familiar. From the other room Rebecca's slightly strident _"Seeley?" _made them both grimace. Booth turned his head and kissed her palm. Brennan ran her thumb across his lips gently. "Go fix your life, Booth."

"Don't go anywhere, okay? Just stay here."

She smiled back at him. He hesitated a moment, frowning at her.

Brennan made a little gesture towards the door with her chin. "Go, Booth. Rebecca's waiting."

As the door closed behind him, Brennan slipped out of the bed.

~o0o~

"Seeley, I'm so sorry to do this to you." Rebecca was wringing her hands together, her face painted with apology. "And for just letting myself in with the spare key like this, but you must not have heard me knocking."

"What's up, Rebecca?" Awareness of how close he was to getting caught lent his voice a whiney tone that he tried to lose, knowing it mostly stemmed from embarrassment. He knew the fact that there was someone in his bed shouldn't matter, but it did. _Who_ it was mattered more than anything. He and Brennan had barely had time to get used to this new way of being; the prospect of having to talk it through with anyone else was inconceivable just now. He covered his discomfiture by slipping a tee shirt over his head.

Rebecca apparently didn't pick up on his tactic, instead glancing over at their son who was preoccupied watching the coffee percolate into the pot with an intensity that only an eight year old could give to the task. She still lowered her voice, not wanting to alarm him. "It's Mom, she's got bacterial pneumonia. She's been admitted to hospital."

Booth paused, the tee shirt rucked up under his arms. "Oh god, that sounds bad."

Rebecca nodded, pasting a shaky smile on her face. "They're pretty sure she'll be okay; she's finally getting the treatment she needs. But I need to be there in case … and my dad's like a sleepwalker. He'd been trying to care for her at home, not wanting to make a fuss, and everything escalated so quickly." Rebecca was obviously worried, despite her smile. She placed a hand on his arm and went on in a rush of words. "I know it's last minute, but can you take Parker for a couple of days? He's still getting over that stomach flu and I don't want to risk him getting infected if I take him with me, even though it's not that high a risk. The poor baby's just so run down." She looked anxiously at the little boy who was now trying to jump up and down in time with the staccato hissing of the coffee maker. Rebecca went on, "I should be back by Thursday, or Friday at the latest. My sister will be there by then and things'll settle down."

"Calm down, Becca, of course I will." While he didn't hesitate to say yes, Booth was running through how he'd juggle having Parker with him if a case came up. It didn't matter; he'd cope somehow, after all it was only a couple of days. The thought of having his son around buoyed him up, regardless of the circumstances.

"Thanks, Seeley. Everything that he'll need is in his backpack; he's got plenty of clothes here after all." Rebecca was already heading for the door. "I've already told his school I was keeping him home for another day or two. Keep an eye on his temperature, will you? He's still not really well. And don't give him anything spicy or you'll regret it." She raised her voice slightly and called out to Parker, who ran over and gave his mother a quick hug of farewell before skipping back to the kitchen, looking the picture of health. "Okay. I've got to get to the airport." She gave Booth a quick peck on the cheek, and he hugged her back automatically. She stopped then, turning to look at him somberly. "I'm sorry."

"Rebecca, you don't need to apologize for asking me to look after my own son." He scoffed, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's not what I'm sorry about." She looked past him towards the bedroom. "Give my best to Dr Brennan."

"What? No. Wait, how did you -" She was out the door and gone in a matter of moments, but not before he'd seen her quick teasing smile and she'd seen the color flood his face.

~o0o~

Booth poked his head into the bedroom, two mugs of coffee held in front of him. He did a double take at the empty bed. Brennan had disappeared again. How did she do that? Just for a moment he thought she'd gone from the apartment, before common sense kicked in and he realized he might have actually noticed something as obvious as her leaving.

"Temperance?" Booth called her name softly, half of him still not expecting an answer but she came out of the bathroom almost immediately, a small grin curving her lips. She'd had a shower and her hair was wet, the water dripping from the ends and leaving a trail of dampness on his dress shirt that she'd donned as a cover up. The tails of his shirt skimmed her thighs, and he noticed a few threads hanging loose at the bottom couple of buttons where they'd torn them off in their haste. Just the sight of those threads brought the frantic need of their coming together to the front of his brain again and he found himself speechless, swallowing down on the desire that rebounded almost immediately.

Brennan took the coffee from him silently, returning his look. The muffled sounds of early morning cartoons on the television in the other room filled the stillness between them.

"Good morning again."

Booth was wary despite the fact that the words were warmly said on a smile. Brennan's way of rationalizing everything meant he was never quite sure what take she'd give any situation and this one was outside the box. His greatest fear was that she'd look at him like he was one of Hodgins' bugs and say something like 'Thanks but no thanks' or 'So long, sucker'. She wouldn't say it like that of course, she'd couch it in anthropological mumbo jumbo, but the meaning would be the same. He choked back a sigh. She wasn't expecting happy ever after, she'd made that plain. Damn but he'd prove her wrong about that, no matter how long it took. He felt tension meander through the muscles of his back.

But she surprised him, putting her coffee cup down on the bedside table before reaching up to whisper a kiss against his lips, adding depth to the caress when his arm found its own way around her waist. Relief coursed through him and he responded willingly, tightening his grip on her with one arm while trying to keep his coffee from spilling, but he'd underestimated her enthusiasm. She wound herself around him sinuously, her left heel adroitly massaging his right calf, only pulling away when he made a short grunt of protest as he felt the sting of hot coffee on the back of his hand.

He put the cup down next to hers and circled his arms back around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I could get used to this." He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the scent of his shampoo in her hair.

"I'm finding the prospect of repeating the experience from last night very attractive." Brennan smiled wryly and ran her finger teasingly along the inside of the elastic waist of his pants, laughing when his physical response to her light touch was immediately obvious. She looked up at him from under her lashes, "I don't have to be at the lab for another hour or so. We've got time -"

Her words brought him reluctantly back to the present, and he leant his forehead against hers regretfully.

"I have Parker for the next couple of days. He's out in the living room watching TV."

"Oh."

"Yes, _oh_. Rebecca asked me to take him – her mom's sick."

"Ah." Brennan frowned, looking put out. "But what if we get a case?"

Booth sat on the side of the bed and took a long slurp from his coffee, pulling face when he realized he'd picked up the wrong cup. He passed the cup over to Brennan who sipped it with an appreciative sigh. "I'll think of something, Bones, it'll be fine."

"What do you have going on at work today?" Brennan drained her coffee and sat down next to Booth, sorting unhurriedly through the pile of clothes they'd discarded last night. She laid her skirt and blouse on the bed and spent a few moments smoothing the creases out. Booth watched her hands move deftly at her task and his heart skipped a beat when it hit him again how much things had changed between them in the last twenty four hours. He couldn't believe how easy and comfortable things were between them right now.

"Same old same old. I've got a pile of paperwork yay high." He'd waved his hand around vaguely. Suddenly he frowned, dismay clouding his face. "And a meeting with Hacker and Caroline at eleven to review the cases that are coming up in court." He tapped his forehead lightly with the heel of his palm. "Caroline needs to work out a timetable for the next couple of months. Damn, I forgot about that. Do you think maybe Angela would take Parker for a couple of hours?"

"I'm sure she would be glad to help you out except she's not in for most of today." Brennan straightened the pleat in his trousers and folded them carefully. "She's giving a presentation about some software she's developing, trying to get some more funding for further R and D. It doesn't sound like you'll have much time to keep your son constructively occupied." Brennan pulled the pile of underwear onto her lap next and separated them out, holding up her panties towards him, her eyebrows raised in accusation. They were ruined; one of the seams had been ripped completely open. A cheesy grin crossed Booth's face and she leant in to kiss it away.

"Why can't I go with Dr Bones?" They both swung around to the door in guilty surprise. Parker stood there, his face flushed with excitement. Booth grabbed the silky lavender scrap and stuffed it hastily into the pocket of his track pants, color suffusing his face. So far Parker had been amazingly accepting of Brennan's presence in his dad's bedroom, but he didn't need anything that might start an avalanche of questions right now. Parker tended to think things through for himself, before choosing his time and place to ask the hard questions. Unfortunately he usually chose the most embarrassing moment to ask them. Booth shifted his weight subtly in an attempt to put a bit of space between Brennan and himself while his son continued, his voice edging on petulant. "I want to go with Dr Bones. There's heaps of cool stuff at her work!" Parker's little crush on Brennan was showing and his father tried to dampen his enthusiasm without hurting his feelings.

"Hang on there, bud, you can't just invite yourself along like that. Bones has got lots of important stuff to do and she needs to concentrate on that." Parker looked crestfallen and Brennan glanced quickly between father and son.

She frowned slightly and hesitated. "Why _don't_ I take him with me? The workload is really light at the lab and there are lots of exhibits at the Jeffersonian that are quite educational with plenty of visual and auditory stimulation. I could keep him entertained." Her tone was tentative, unsure of his reaction.

Booth was surprised by her proposal; he wasn't convinced that Brennan really knew how difficult it was at times to keep his son occupied. "I don't know, Bones, your idea of 'entertained' might not be the same as an eight year old's." _Besides_, he added silently to himself, _we're way too new for you to take on mommy duties – you might just decide to cut and run!_

"Hey! I was eight once too, you know." Brennan's tone was indignant. "How hard can it be? I'm registered as a foster parent after all, if you're concerned that I may not be equal to the task. I'm a very responsible person."

"Bones, of course I know you're responsible. I trust you with my son. That's not the issue, I just don't think you were ever _eight_ eight." He said dryly, grinning at her to take any sting out of the words. "Don't go teaching him about the mating habits of bonobos, okay?"

"Pygmy chimpanzees' mating habits are actually quite fascinating, but I'll take your advice on board." She arched an eyebrow and angled her head toward the rumpled sheets of his bed. "Any other species' mating habits I should avoid discussing?"

She had him by the balls there. Fortunately, Parker didn't seem to be following that particular conversational thread.

"Please, Dad? I really wanna go to the museum." The little boy strung out the entreaty and Booth found one pair of soulful warm brown eyes and one pair of clear cool blue gray eyes turned on him expectantly. He was a bit taken aback; Brennan seemed almost to want this as much as his son did.

"That's settled then." Brennan said brusquely, not waiting for his answer. She stood up and held out her hand. "C'mon, Parker. Have you had breakfast yet?" Booth watched, bemused, as they walked away together, hand in hand, Parker gabbling nineteen to the dozen and Brennan chuckling indulgently.

Booth blinked, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. "Well I'll be damned."

~o0o~

"Hey Baby Booth! What are you doing here?" Angela's welcome was warm but she was obviously distracted, shuffling papers and frantically emptying the contents of her desk drawer to try and find the thumb drive that her presentation was stored on. She managed a quick look over his shoulder, expecting to see the broad-shouldered figure of his father. When she spotted Brennan her expression shifted. "Hey sweetie. How are you?" Angela glanced into the hall again and then frowned. _Where's Booth?_

Brennan harrumphed a little self consciously. "Parker's spending the day with me. I'm looking after him while Booth's tied up with work. As a favor." At Angela's incredulous smile, she added hastily. "It's a partner thing." Brennan's voice was edged with defiance, as if she expected Angela to challenge the veracity of her statement. She made no mention of the change in her relationship with Booth, and Brennan almost convinced herself it was because she didn't want to sidetrack Angela on her big day. Almost, but not quite. She filed that one away for later and avoided looking directly at her friend; Angela would know something was up the minute she looked her in the eyes. And in truth Angela was stunned that Brennan was going to look after Parker for the whole day, but then a smile crept over her face. She kind of liked the idea of Brennan playing mommy. She only wished she had more time to analyze what was going on.

Brennan edged away, pulling Parker gently after her. She almost bumped into Hodgins as he stood in the hallway near the door of Angela's office but she didn't speak to him, instead nodding awkwardly to him and continuing on her way.

Hodgins came into Angela's office, looking bemused. "Did I just hear correctly? Dr Brennan's going to babysit Parker?" He started to laugh. "Oh, that poor kid."

"Zip it, Jack." Angela cut him off, annoyed that he'd put into words the exact same thing that she herself had been thinking.

~o0o~

Booth found his attention drifting as Assistant Director Hacker asked Caroline yet another numnuts question about court procedure. The look on Brennan's face when she offered to take Parker popped into his head and he found himself contemplating the mixture of tentative appeal and uncertainty that he didn't often see on her face. After their "no strings" conversation the offer had been totally unexpected, and all the sweeter for it. Suddenly he smiled to himself, remembering several other expressions he'd never seen on her face until last night. His smile broadened. That is until the expectant silence surrounding him and the thin-lipped look of impatience on Caroline's face made him realize he'd been asked a direct question and he had absolutely no idea what it was.

"Cher," Caroline's dulcet tones overrode his desperate mental scramble for something appropriate to say that might save him. "whatever her name is, she ain't here in this room, so can we get back to the business at hand? I got a life outside this place too, y'know, but you don't see me going around all doey-eyed and _cooyon_ all the time. Pay attention, Agent Booth."

~o0o~

"Dr Bones?"

"Mm-hmm?" Brennan looked up from the file she'd been working on. She realised with a start that Parker had been unusually quiet for the past half hour or so. Even the static-laden sound effects from his trusty Nintendo had ceased.

"I don't feel so good."

They'd spent a large part of the morning exploring the more prosaic exhibits in the Jeffersonian. Parker had been wild to see the baseball relics and Brennan had reluctantly agreed. She'd been surprised to find a huge section dedicated to a women's baseball league that had been formed during the war years and she'd spent some time taking it all in. She even found herself memorizing some of the facts and figures to astound her partner with when he least expected it, not that she acknowledged the reason for her studious behaviour on a conscious level.

When Parker pulled her towards the interactive science display she'd been more comfortable; here she felt she could really contribute something to the child's education.

Parker was a bright child and enthusiastic about the subject, but even _his_ eyes glazed over when she tried to explain how a gas chromatographer worked; apparently analytical chemistry wasn't included on the curriculum at elementary school. But it only took one or two "Booth Looks" from Parker to realize she was pitching her conversation way above the boy's head. When she allowed herself to just relax and enjoy Parker's excitement, she realized she was genuinely having a good time. It wasn't until she heard the echo of her father's voice in her own as she was explaining how thunder and lightning worked that she was hit full force with a reminder of the rich environment she'd spent her early years in, something she often sublimated. It pleased her that she was giving something back to Booth by doing the same for his son, even in a small way.

When Booth sent a text message letting her know the meeting with Hacker and Caroline was going on longer than he'd expected, they were both disappointed. Even the promise that he'd catch up with them later at the lab and take them out for pie didn't put the smile back on Parker's face right away. Instead they'd sat on the front steps of the Jeffersonian, Brennan watching Parker eat the two chili dogs he'd insisted on, sauce on his chin and the sun in their eyes. It made Brennan happy to see that cheeky grin surface again.

Now, hearing the plaintive note in Parker's voice, she closed her laptop and considered the little boy in a more clinical manner. He was looking flushed and his hair clung damply to his forehead. The high energy from the morning had disappeared. Maybe those chili dogs for lunch hadn't been such a great idea after all. He'd pulled himself into the corner of the sofa in her office and his eyes were drooping sleepily. Brennan went over to him, concerned.

"Are you going to be sick?" she asked hastily, looking around wildly for a suitable receptacle, just in case.

"I dunno, I don't think so, but I feel kind of weird." Brennan tentatively placed the back of her hand against his forehead, feeling a little foolish. It was hardly a scientific method of measuring temperature, but she remembered _her_ mother doing the same thing many times. She relaxed slightly; he was quite cool to the touch so there appeared to be no reason for anxiety in that quarter, but he looked miserable. She was about to call Cam for a consult when Parker let out a huge noxious burp and suddenly grinned happily. Apparently the crisis was over. Brennan felt her unease drain away and they exchanged weary smiles.

Despite finding the little boy's company not only enjoyable but unexpectedly interesting, she'd actually found the morning to be exhausting. She'd been on overland treks that had been less enervating. When Parker yawned extravagantly Brennan found herself trying to stifle a yawn of her own.

She missed the sideways look the young boy gave her. "Mom cuddles me when I'm sick." He paused for effect. "So does Dad." Another quick sideways glance. Even Brennan was able to work out what Parker was hinting at. She settled herself next to him on the sofa, put an arm around his shoulders and pulled the throw from the back of the sofa over them both. Parker gave a little sigh and burrowed further under her shoulder.

"Why does my dad call you Bones? That's not really your name is it?"

Brennan smiled despite herself. "No it's not my name, but it's like a nickname Booth - er - your dad made up because I work with bones. Your dad thinks bones are dry and boring, but they can speak to you."

"You mean they're alive?" Parker's eyes were the size of saucers as he glanced around her office apprehensively. He slipped his hand into hers.

Brennan gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze and laughed at the question so innocently put. "No, not actually animate. I mean if you know what to look for you can find out all about what the person - or animal - was like when they were alive by looking at their bones."

The tension left his little body and he snuggled more deeply into her side. He was still trying to work out the name thing. "So why doesn't he call you Dr Brennan like everyone else?"

Brennan considered the question for a few moments. "I don't really know."

"I think it's because my dad really likes you. Really, _really_ likes you." He looked up at her but didn't understand why she was frowning. "I really, _really_ like you too."

Brennan felt a rush of warmth that she couldn't immediately identify. She tucked the feeling away for further examination later, along with her motivation for offering to help with Parker. But that had been just a partner thing. Hadn't it? She shook her head as if to clear her mind but the action didn't dispel the vague feeling of being off balance. Today had left her with a lot to think about.

"Dr Bones, can I call you Bones like my dad does? It's really important."

"Sure. But why is it so important?"

"Cos then you'd know how much I like you, too."

~o0o~

Booth sprinted the last fifty yards to the lab, checking his watch as he ran. Just shy of three o'clock – he was two hours later than he'd told Brennan. He cursed softly under his breath. If he wanted this burgeoning relationship to go the distance he worried the chances of success would decrease exponentially in direct correlation to the length of time she babysat his son. He almost tripped when he realized he was starting to think squinty, before guilt pushed that concern out of his mind. She'd said she was light on work, but Booth knew all too well how frustrated she'd be at being taken away from her precious bones for such a long time. She was a total workaholic. He grimaced wryly; it was one of the many things they had in common. Apart from that, Brennan's experience with children was limited, and as much as he loved his son, the kid was eight years old. That said it all, really. And there was that other thing he needed to discuss with her. He chewed on the inside of his lip, distracted.

"Hey, Booth!" It was Hodgins, no doubt ready with some smartass quip. Booth could see the amused gleam in his eye from here. He'd probably felt the edge of Brennan's temper during the morning and thought some sort of payback would be justified. Booth ignored him and slid the last few feet to the door of Brennan's office, an apology already formed on his lips. What he saw brought him up short. Brennan was stretched out on her office sofa, work forgotten, Parker cradled in her arms. Both of them were oblivious to the sounds of people going about their daily tasks nearby, and were deeply asleep.

For the second time that day Booth blinked, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. "Well I'll be damned."

Maybe that conversation about the fact that they'd never actually got around to using any of those condoms last night could wait.

* * *

More to come, and it would be amazing to hear what you think. Reviews make the world go around. Thanks guys!


	7. Truth or Consequences

A/N 1: Sorry it's taken such a ridiculously long time to post an update on this story … RL sent my muse on the run! I hesitated to pick it up again, but there are so many alerts on it, and – you guys take my breath away – they keep coming in! Thank you. Hope there's still some interest out there and that it lives up to expectations.

A/N 2: Canon has overtaken me. Firstly … oops! Secondly … squee!

A/N 3: (Is this woman ever going to get to the story, I hear you ask?) Readers are respectfully referred to Chapter 2: "The Obligatory Shower Scene" for an explanation of the term '_tooheddabeenus'_. ;P

_Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my soul, and I even lend that out on occasion, but only if you ask nice. Anything that even looks familiar in this story probably belongs to someone else (except the actual story - that's all mine, Mine, MINE [*maniacal laughter*]!)_

* * *

Short recap (it's been a while, after all):

Chapter 1: Booth gets a key to the pool in Brennan's building. He gets wet. A lot.

Chapter 2: Booth gets an itch. Brennan offers to scratch it.

Chapter 3: Booth has a dream. Sort of. They both get wet.

Chapter 4: Booth gets a new suit. He also gets a brilliant idea.

Chapter 5: Booth gets what he deserves. Brennan finally gets it.

Chapter 6: Brennan and Booth get sprung. Parker gets to go on a treasure hunt.

Caught up? Now you get to hear the rest of it …

* * *

Chapter Seven: Truth or Consequences.

* * *

"Bones, where are you going?" Booth kept his voice low, trying not to wake his sleeping son, but he couldn't disguise the surprise in his voice. They were in the Jeffersonian parking garage and Brennan was in the process of veering off to her car, keys already in her hand.

She looked a little nonplussed at his question. "Home." She drew the word out while she searched her brain for some possible hidden meaning in his question.

Booth shifted Parker's weight in his arms. The little boy's legs dangled against his dad's, his arms looped loosely around Booth's neck; he appeared to be sound asleep. Booth's smile faltered and he began to feel a little apprehensive; he'd just assumed that she was coming with them. "Ah - we can all go home in the SUV. It won't matter if your car's here another night."

A little frown shot across her eyes. "Not your home, Booth. Mine." She smiled vaguely at him and turned resolutely away towards her car.

Booth's mind worked furiously as he settled Parker into the back of the SUV. He had a feeling whatever happened in the next few minutes might seal the seal on the nature of their relationship in some way. He trotted over to intercept her.

"Hey Bones, wait up." The light touch of his hand on her arm stalled her progress and she looked up at him. "Are you coming over later?" He spoke quietly, his hand sliding along her arm and she couldn't disguise the shiver of awareness that shot through her at his touch.

Despite that, the frown returned and took up residence as a sharp little crease between her brows. "Why?"

He was taken aback by her answer, but managed to summon his most persuasive grin. "Ah, we sort of have some, um, unfinished business?"

The gravelly texture of his voice sent another shiver through her and her face cleared as his meaning struck home.

"Oh, you mean you would like to have sexual intercourse again?" Her eyes brightened, and she turned around to face him fully, a smile curving her lips. "Yes, well … that would be very nice." She pulled out her phone, ready to make a diary entry. "What time would you like me to come?" The look on his face, both at her bald statement and the unintentional pun, was priceless but she missed it; her attention on the screen, her finger poised. When he didn't speak she flicked a glance at him. "Assuming you're suggesting we engage in intercourse at your apartment, as Parker is still under your care?" With this, she nodded towards the SUV, where Parker now sat with his nose pressed against the window. Her mouth widened into an indulgent grin when she spotted him and she gave him a little wave. She looked back at Booth, genuine concern paramount on her beautiful face, and she tapped his arm with her forefinger as a thought occurred to her. "Wait, would that be contra-indicated by one of your moral codes, for us to have sex while your son is in the apartment?"

Booth felt his blood pressure go up several points. He wiped his hand across his jaw wearily. _Jeez, one step forward, two steps back._ The thought didn't get past his lips because she was still looking up at him in earnest and that look in her eyes was his downfall. She really didn't have a clue.

"I thought we were starting something here." A tiny pleading note had crept into his voice without him realizing it and he cleared his throat, trying to shift the balance of the conversation. "We're good together; you and me. We can only get better."

Her eyes shot up to meet his, a little startled. "Sex, Booth. We had sex." She didn't even convince herself with that line, but he let it slip by, ignoring the sting. Too much hinged on getting her past this point. She, of course, didn't realize there was even a point to get past. She sidled up to him and placed her hand on his cheek, an unconsciously sultry smile curving her lips. "It was very good." She followed the smile with caress to his hip which would have gone further if he hadn't suddenly remembered the eight year old audience and backed off, out of range.

"I want you to come home with me, with us. How about I cook us some dinner? Ah, you could spend the night, maybe." Too wishy washy. Brennan needed clear cut signals. "I want you to spend the night." _I want you to move in. I want you to – _He pulled himself up mentally, letting the whirlwind of his thoughts subside, waiting while the dust settled. As much as it felt like it, he knew Brennan wasn't playing games here. He'd give anything to know what was going on in that genius brain right now. A little of the fight went out of him; he didn't know what to say to her to convince her everything would be okay.

Without warning she leaned in and kissed him, her lips parting his easily, her tongue teasing his. "All right." She turned on her heel and headed towards the SUV. Parker let out a whoop of joy at her approach, the sound muffled behind the toughened glass of the vehicle windows. "But I'm cooking dinner." She hauled herself up into the SUV and waited calmly for Booth to catch up.

Booth stared after her narrowly for a long moment before getting in. Something was off. She'd said what he'd wanted to hear, and done what he wanted her to do, but … something was off. He brushed aside the feeling and decided to take her actions at face value. Parker leaned forward between the seats and grinned at each of them in turn, unaware of the subtle undercurrents pulsing between the adults.

"Sit back, buddy, and put your seat belt on please." Booth spoke automatically.

Parker did what his dad asked reluctantly, grumbling his protests through a yawn. "Why? You don't wear one." He caught the look his father shot him in the rearview mirror and bit the side of his lip uncertainly.

"That's different." Subject closed.

"How?" Apparently not.

Booth could feel Brennan's gaze slide over his face, waiting for his answer. It was a question she'd asked him herself a number of times. His lips thinned a little in pique, and then he made himself relax; it wasn't Parker's fault Booth's mood was degenerating rapidly.

"Just is, little man, just is." Booth keyed the ignition and the engine roared to life. He pulled out of the parking garage and into the rush hour traffic, the battle with the belligerent flow of vehicles stoking his mood.

Brennan glanced over her shoulder and exchanged a smile with the little boy. "Parker, your dad wants to keep you safe. He places your safety above his own. Sometimes he ignores the facts and acts on his emotions." She turned to look at Booth. "I do not believe that acting on your emotions is a rational thing to do."

"Okay … then why are you here? In my car. Coming home with me?" His smile had an edge to it that she didn't notice. His gut was knotted with anxiety, waiting for her answer.

"I weighed the pros and cons of the alternatives available to me and decided that going home with you was the best option." Her voice had taken on that prim, squinty quality that was guaranteed to make him smile. Or drive him nuts.

"No emotions involved in your decision." Paradoxically Booth now found he was enjoying this exchange more than he really should.

"Booth, I didn't say I don't have emotions, just that I don't make decisions based on them."

"Oh really? Okay. So, what makes this the 'best option'?" he challenged, chin jutting.

Brennan looked a little uncomfortable and found herself unable to formulate an answer that satisfied her, finally giving a one-shouldered shrug and saying in a small voice, "Just is."

"Ha!" Booth couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face. Oh, she was motivated by emotion all right; getting her to admit that just might take a little while. Ideas on how to set about doing that made him smile even wider. "Ha!" He knew he was on a roll here and the thought buoyed him up. She was adorable when he was right.

Unreasonably elated, he reached out his hand and tried to give her cheek a playful squeeze, but she ducked out of the way and pulled a face at him. "What's so funny?"

"You are."

Brennan looked at him suspiciously for a second or two before giving in to the seduction of his smile. Parker picked up on their mood and all three were laughing together within moments.

They were pulled up at the traffic light a block or two from home when Parker's giggling resurfaced.

"Now what's so funny?" Brennan half turned towards Parker, one eyebrow raised in mock interrogation.

"Dad's got a hickey." Parker's face creased at the hilarity of that fact and laughed even harder when Booth clapped a hand over his neck automatically. Brennan reached over and pushed his hand away, "Did I do that?" She smiled, pleased with herself, but Booth ignored her and pulled the collar of his dress shirt up a little higher, turning his attention to his son.

"Hey!" Booth's eyes searched his son's face in the rear view mirror. "How do you even know what a hickey is?"

Parker just shrugged and went back to playing with the Nintendo that he'd taken out of his backpack, blissfully unaware of the panic attack he'd just caused. Booth let the subject drop, relieved. He still wasn't ready for a sex talk with his eight year old son. Parker settled in for some heavy duty Super Mario while the grownups bickered about what to have for dinner.

Booth had pulled up outside his local market at Brennan's request. He watched now as she came out of the store, her arms around a paper sack crammed with vegetables and other mysterious foodstuffs. He couldn't resist wallowing in the warm feeling that the sheer domesticity of her actions aroused in him before he hopped out and took the groceries from her. He stowed the sack in the back and grinned as he helped Brennan into the cab; well, tried to help her as she slapped his hand away with a grunt something like exasperation, and he chuckled to himself. And realised he was happy.

~o0o~

"Hey Bones, are you and dad going to have a baby?" That bombshell was dropped with the same guileless innocence as the hickey comment. Booth froze in the action of grinding black pepper onto his meal and shot his son a look of horror.

Brennan, on the other hand, considered the question carefully before responding, "Actually Parker, although pregnancy most commonly results from coitus, modern methods of -"

"Bones!" Booth was horrified; visions of the close call he'd had with the _tooheddabeenus _shook him, but he barely had time to recover before the _tooheddabeenus_ stood on its tiny hind legs and roared when Parker piped up again.

"What's a coidus?"

Booth was virtually apoplectic. Oh god, trust Parker to pick up on that word. An uncomfortable feeling was building in the pit of his stomach. He'd known all day that there'd be a reckoning for the scenario Parker had stumbled across this morning; he just hadn't figured the kid would be able to connect the dots so well. Who taught him this stuff? He looked over at his partner suspiciously; Brennan had had Parker for the whole day – who knew what they had talked about. Although, she _had_ promised to steer clear of any discussions about – er – mating habits. Still, she had an absurd obsession with the facts and … who knew what they had talked about.

And she seemed determined to round out his kid's education because then she took a deep breath and started in. "Well, Parker, the male inserts -"

"Wait, Bones!" Booth's voice sliced shrilly over hers, cutting off her full scale (explicit, scientifically correct) explanation of how babies are made. "No, Parker. You see -" Abruptly the memory of the conversation he still hadn't gotten around to having with his partner regarding contraceptives – or lack thereof - slammed into his consciousness and he remembered there was a whole other reason not to get into this particular subject. "Ah, geez, ixnay on that subject, Bones."

"Ixnay?" Brennan screwed her mind around the unfamiliar term.

"Later, okay?" Booth flicked his eyes meaningfully at his son several times.

Brennan was adamant, "Parker asked a perfectly logical question." Parker's eyes shot up to hers admiringly and ping-ponged between the two of them.

"Not now, okay?" Booth was almost pleading, his fixed smile and widened eyes giving Brennan only a small amount of pause.

"Why did you cut me off?"

"Ah, I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"You're always doing that."

"What?"

"Cutting me off. You never let me -"

"I'm not!" Booth had the grace to look uncomfortable and went on more reasonably, "Well, maybe occasionally. It's just that sometimes you open your mouth without thinking-"

"I never say anything without thinking, Booth." Brennan interjected, getting a little annoyed.

"-thinking through the implications to other people of what you're saying."

"You mean 'inferences'. I never hint or suggest something without stating it directly. I prefer to reach an opinion from facts or reasoning."

"Say what?" He frowned fiercely at her. "You know what I mean! Besides, why do you always have to correct me?"

Brennan calmly inspected a cube of golden tempeh before popping it in her mouth. "It helps you evolve."

"I need to evolve? You make me sound prehistoric. That really hurts."

Brennan frowned at him, twisting her mouth to one side, "That wasn't my intention."

"See? Consequences." Booth glanced over at his son, suddenly remembering he was there. Parker was pushing the food on his plate around with his fork, a frown on his face.

"What's up, buddy? Not hungry?" Booth looked abashed at his son, his brows drawing together with concern. "Do you still feel sick?"

Parker shook his head, looking at each of them in turn. "I'm okay." He went back to pushing the food around again.

Brennan looked at Booth with uncertainty. "Does Parker not like what I cooked? Perhaps he'd prefer something different to eat?" Parker meanwhile, although not sure at first whether he'd like the Indonesian tempeh stir fry that Brennan had painstakingly prepared, was actually enjoying the crunchy greenness and spicy chewy cubes that dominated the dish. That wasn't what was bothering him. (Booth on the other hand was having a bit of difficulty with it. A bit of chicken or some pork cubed into it would have been good.)

Booth considered his son for a moment or two; something was up. He reached over and chucked the boy under the chin, "Spill, Parks."

With obvious reluctance, the child raised his head and regarded both adults solemnly. "I don't like it when you guys fight."

"No, no – we're not fighting Parker." Brennan was quick to reassure him, a little perturbed that he was upset by their squabbling.

"Sure sounded like it." said the little boy, petulance bubbling through the words.

Booth scowled at the tone but let it slide. "No buddy, we were just -" He looked at Brennan for help but she stared back at him, her expression thoughtful. He finished the sentence without her help. "We were just talking."

Brennan nodded in agreement, even though there was still a little rancour left directed at him. "It's okay to hold different views on things, Parker. The extrapolation of human diversity in time and space is the basis of anthropology."

"Huh?" Father and son chorused together.

"Anthropology attempts to compare human groups to understand the range of normal variation in human behavior and biology, and therefore considers what it is to be human." Without preamble, she licked her thumb and wiped a drop of sauce from the corner of Booth's mouth, letting the sensitive pad trail across his lips for the briefest of moments. The gesture was artless and sincere and Booth was blown away by the simple affection in her touch.

Parker looked at his father, "Do you know what Bones just said, Dad?"

Booth grinned and leaned over towards his son, keeping his eyes on Brennan the whole time. "Yeah, I kinda do." He wasn't referring to her words.

Parker watched the grownups closely, absorbing the smile Brennan and Booth exchanged. Contentment settled on his face. He might not understand everything – anything – they mostly said to each other, but he knew when his dad was happy 'cos his eyes got all crinkly when he smiled and Bones had the same look on her face, so it must all be good. He attacked his dinner with renewed enthusiasm, even the broccoli.

~o0o~

"If I'm going to have meals at your home on a regular basis, I'm going to need to restock your pantry." Brennan resealed a packet of deep fried noodles and placed it back on the shelf.

Booth threw the dish cloth onto the counter and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He took hope from the message she had unwittingly given him in her offhand comment. He nuzzled her cheek with a smile, rewarded for his efforts when her ass pressed against him. He'd been waiting all night to touch her properly, not just a fleeting brush of their hands as she passed the plates around, or when she'd tapped his wrist to underline a point. His senses tingled at the feel of her, and when she trembled in response he was almost undone. In the background the sound of the TV was a gentle reminder that Parker was still up. Booth pulled away reluctantly and stacked the last of the dinner plates in the cupboard, turning to look at her with a hint of regret.

"Maybe I should send Parker to bed now. Then you and I could sit on the sofa and neck." He placed his arm carelessly over her shoulders, not able to break contact completely, but wanting to keep things light.

Brennan chuckled and used the dish cloth to give the counter top one last wipe before she tossed it into the sink. She turned into his embrace, running her hands down his sides until they came to rest on his hips. "Thank you for asking me here tonight, Booth." She looked up at him, her gaze so direct, and his resolve melted.

Booth pulled her close. "You're welcome. Thank you for cooking dinner for us." He gently brushed her bangs away with his fingers. "I'm glad you're here."

He leaned into her and took possession of her mouth, his tongue teasing her lips apart. At the touch of his tongue she responded immediately, using her hands against the arch of his back to pull him impossibly closer. They shared a long satisfying kiss, heat shooting between them and sending electricity in tangents along his skin. Brennan pulled away first, her eyes a little glazed. "You're welcome." She replied, leaving Booth to wonder whether she meant the meal or the kiss, and not really caring which. He ran the tip of one finger along her grave little mouth and watched with fascination as her eyes darkened with desire. For him.

His voice, when he found it, was low and urgent. "Seriously, let me get Parker settled and then we can continue where we left off, okay?"

Brennan smiled, "What, and make out on the sofa?"

"Um, I was thinking of something a little more … horizontal."

"That would be acceptable." When Brennan followed her prim words with slow kneading of the deep flesh of his ass, Booth felt his knees go weak.

He sought her mouth again, eager for the taste, the smell of her. Her fingers continued their hypnotic movement, her body shifting lower against his, her arms reaching further around him until they completely circled his hips and her fingers stroked his inner thighs. He flexed his knees to give her better access and she insinuated herself between his legs, and when her fingertips glanced against his balls through the light fabric of his trousers, he groaned softly. His hands shook and his breathing was shallow and urgent. God, he wanted to be consumed by her, surrounded by her. If he didn't stop now he didn't think he ever would. He saw his thoughts mirrored on his partner's beautiful face. Definitely time that child of his was in bed.

"Gimme a few minutes. Parker …" He let his voice trail away and shrugged smilingly through to the end of the sentence, backing off with a rueful smile.

"Wait, Booth. What was it that you were trying to tell me at dinner?"

Booth ran a hand across the back of his neck, embarrassed now at having that subject back on the agenda. He shifted back towards her and took one of her hands, feeling a little foolish. "Ah, it was just that, last night -"

"Yes?" She turned the word into a little growl and used her free hand to tug his belt buckle – and him – a little closer.

"Well, you know how we kinda got carried away?"

"Mm-nm." Her smile widened into something more than merely suggestive and his core temp nudged up a degree or two.

"I- We-" He sighed lustily, his lips pursing with regret. "We didn't actually get round to using any of those condoms." The words tumbled out awkwardly.

Brennan's expression froze as she contemplated the significance of what he'd just said. "I don't understand."

"Ah, Bones, what's to understand? I guess we both got a little ah, sidetracked by what we were doing."

"No, Booth." She frowned, waving a hand dismissively. "The fact that I overlooked such a basic tenet of contraceptive and antimicrobial prophylaxis is what I'm having difficulty with."

"I didn't get half of what you just said, and I'm pretty sure you didn't mean the microbe thing to be insulting, but are you telling that you've never been so overcome by the heat of the moment before that you've never, you know, just gone for it?" Despite himself, Booth couldn't contain the smug grin that spread across his face. She scowled at him, but didn't pull away when he drew her close. "I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"I fail to see -" Suddenly it dawned on Brennan that he was pleased at the situation. "Oh, you're interpreting my apparent dereliction of accountability as evidence of your masculine prowess and potency." Brennan's smile was distracted, but there nonetheless.

"Potency? Well, hey, you know how good I tested … motile sperm count: 28.8 million, remember?" Booth's grin slipped a little when he asked, "You do have some other, er, protection, don't you? I know there were two of us doing that particular tango, but …"

"Actually, no." Her teeth worried the inside of her lip. "There was no imperative … until now."

Silence stretched between them for a moment before Booth managed to croak, "Jeez, Bones, you don't think you could be - ?"

They both froze and looked anywhere but at each other, and when their eyes accidentally met, neither could bear to acknowledge the expression they saw on the other's face.

Brennan broke the moment with a tense little laugh. "Booth, you're being ridiculous. The probability of me being pregnant from a single sexual encounter with you is miniscule."

"Yeah, you're right." He rolled his eyes, his expression wry. "Miniscule. Phht! I _am_ being ridiculous." Booth sought her eyes, "Right?"

~o0o~

Sooo … is she or isn't she? Haven't made up my mind yet how that's going to pan out in _this_ story - what do you think?


End file.
